There's A Reason - Scandal FanFic
by Rodeb
Summary: This story initially picks up after Fitz has won his second term as President. As the story progresses, we flashback to the year preceding Fitz's win and find out what happened to Fitz, Olivia and Jake after Olivia is outed to the press. This prologue is tame, but I warn in advance of the unapologetic smut that is to come. Hope you enjoy. :)
1. Prologue

**There's A Reason**

**Summary: **

After it is revealed that Fitz leaked Olivia's identity to the press in an effort to free her from Mellie's blackmail, the two lovers separate over the betrayal and try to embark on lives that don't include damaging each other. As time apart passes, the revelations that Fitz and Olivia reach about themselves connects them again on a level that is hard to accept, but necessary to be together.

**Prologue**

Present Day - May 2012

She pulls the bathroom door shut and draws in a slow ragged breath. _'Why this?' Why do I need this?' _

With a soft exhalation of air, she walks unsteadily to the tub and sits on its edge. As her breathing slows, she brings her hand up to brush back her hair and the rustle of the scarf wrapped around her wrist startles her. With wide eyes she stares at the soft material and whispers aloud "How can I want this?"

"Livvie, please open the door."

Olivia's eyes never leave the scarf and with her hand suspended before her she whispers again, "How can I _want_ this?" Self-revulsion, an emotion she has flirted with far too often, is squatting in the corner of her mind waiting to take root.

Fitz presses his forehead against the door and tries to still his rising panic. "Liv, I can hear you talking to yourself. Open up and let's figure this out. There isn't anything we can't fix, but if we don't talk about this, we will lose each other again. _Please."_

Olivia's shoulders drop at the sound of his fear. She takes a deep and shuddering breath. With her resolve shaken, she goes to the door and presses her cheek against the cool wood.

"Fitz, I can't let you look at me now. I can't let you … ." Closing her eyes, she places a trembling hand on the door hoping it will ground her. "I can't let you see."

Fitz swallows around the lump of worry in this throat and reminds himself to stay calm. He knows pushing her now will cause her to go into fight or flight mode. His next few words have to be selected with extreme care.

"Liv, did I ever tell you about the time I deliberately lost a student debate in grade school?"

In spite of her caged feeling, Olivia can't help but smile at his attempt to distract her with a tale of his youth. Fitz rarely spoke about his childhood, and he knew it was the only topic that could get her immediate attention. Amused, she says, "The man whose entire first term was won based on a debate he owned? The same debate that is now the model for 4 college courses at three different universities? No way."

Chuckling a little, Fitz turns his back and slides down the door. Stretching his legs out in front him he leans back smiling ruefully at the memory.

"It's true. I swear it. Fenton Hearst told the entire school that it was like arguing with his 2 year old sister."

Olivia giggles as an image of Fitz in pigtails and a diaper leaps into her mind. She can hear Fitz laughing on the other side of the door and that makes her laugh even harder.

"You think that's funny, huh? Fenton rode that victory all the way to the gym and got to have first pick at dodge ball that day. Little jerk was king for a day and I got beaned in the ass for my trouble."

With a snort, Olivia slides to the floor and shakes her head. "You poor thing. Why did you let Fenton win in the first place? Were you practicing your humanitarian skills at that age? What were you 8? Tiny little Fitz Ghandi, man of the people even then."

Trying to hold back his laughter, Fitz says, "I was 9 and I swear it wasn't a good deed at all. I was too selfish. Even at that age."

Olivia smiles softly and although she thinks she knows the answer, she asks the question anyway. "Well, why did you let Fenton become dodge ball king?"

Fitz rubs his chin as his smile fades. His voice roughened by the memory, he says, "My dad dropped me off at school that morning instead of one of his staffers. He'd told my mother that he wanted to give me time to practice my debate responses with him. He'd missed practicing with me the night before." Fitz frowns and looks down at his hands. "I was glad he hadn't practiced with me the night before. Glad." His voice becoming softer and deeper with anger, he continued. "When we drove to school that morning, he didn't practice with me at all. He took calls the entire time and only said one thing to me as I left the car."

Olivia winces at the pain she hears in Fitz's voice and not for the first time wishes she could bring Big Gerry back to slap him.

Feeling as small and helpless as he did on that day, Fitz says, "He said, "This debate isn't about games boy. It isn't about practicing halfhearted attempts to gently convince your opponent that you're right. This is about decimation. You will not leave him room to retaliate and you will not allow him to gain ground. You will destroy him and leave no room for his resurrection. Is that clear boy? You will learn to win swiftly and without mercy. Understood? Do not come home and make me have to tell your mother that you lost."

Olivia tries to still the instinctual flow of comforting words that she knows will not take away the pain. Fitz doesn't handle emotional pain well and lifting his spirits with encouraging words is the only way to bring him back from wallowing in his hurt.

"Fitz, baby, that man was not the measure of you. The person you are today is a testament to the strength of your will and how you did not allow someone to shape who you would become. You are a rockstar of a man and I believe in you."

Because he knows she needs to fight for him, even against a man who can no longer hurt him, Fitz doesn't try to contradict her with what he feels inside. Even from the grave, Big Gerry's ability to sow doubt in his heart is undiminished. Cruel, jealous _coward_ of a man. With a sigh Fitz lets her know that her willingness to fight against these doubts in him is not unappreciated. As a matter fact, he couldn't function without it.

"Liv, it's tough to doubt myself when you're around. You are the one constant that I can count on. Even now."

Olivia smiles and pulls her legs under her. She doesn't understand how she can be afraid to reveal herself to this man. Her trust in him is bottomless. Her love for him is unquestionable. But, she still cannot bring herself to admit that what he's proposing is what she needs. Fear of the unknown. That was her Achilles heel and she knew it. She just wished she could trust herself enough to let Fitz take them in this new direction.

"Liv baby, please open the door for me. I need to put my hands on you and know you're ok. Come on love." He gently pulls on the doorknob and is surprised when the door swings open. He finds Olivia sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes trained on his feet.

"Fitz, I don't know -"

"We don't have to _know_ anything at this point Livvie." Kneeling in front of her, but not touching her, Fitz speaks softly. "All we have to do is take one step together. One small step and if that step doesn't destroy us, another small step. Then another. If we can do that, what we will know is that we can do anything as long as we're together. Is that ok baby? As slow and steady as you want Livvie. I'll go as slow as you need, just don't shut me out now. I need you too much."

Olivia raises her head and looks at him with uncertainty and confusion. It kills him to see her so disjointed and unsure. With a pained "sweet baby", Fitz pulls her into his arms and holds her to his chest, rocking her while gently untying the scarf from her wrist. Fitz croons to her, repeating one phrase as if it's a mantra, "Slow and steady, slow and steady, slow and steady …"


	2. Chapter 1 - There's a Reason

**Chapter 1**

May 2011

Slumped in the back of her father's car, Olivia refuses to look at him. She can barely hear him through the waves of pain radiating from her head and her heart.

"… putting your years of common sense aside to allow that puppet to _use_ you …"

She tries to inhale and finds it impossible. The air has gone heavy; gravity has forced itself down her throat and taken up residence. Her lungs are incapable of ever filling again.

"… think he will save you from that predator of a wife? Think again Olivia. How stupid are …"

She tries to find something to grasp. Some thought or angle that will save her from this suffocation, this sinking into unbelievable pain.

"… packed and your team knows that Pope and Associates is closed until further notice. You can take care of dismantling the business when you …"

She closes her eyes and tries to hide inside herself. This allows her to drown out her father, but not the snippets of memories that ebb forward to prick their needles into her bruised heart.

_"Your whore! That's all she is! It is all she will ever be - at least to the press. I will not allow you to publicly cuckold me with your romantic fantasy Fitz!"_

"_Mellie, we are going to fix this. I understand you're angry, but for the moment will you refrain from calling me a whore at least to my face?"_

Sliding deeper into her seat, Olivia presses her forehead to the cool window and squeezes her eyes shut.

_"Liv, I had no choice! She would have used your identity to threaten you. Don't you see that? What other options did I have for protecting you? Mellie is off the rails where it concerns you and I will NOT allow her to take you from ME!_

Olivia begins to drift with the rocking motion of the car. Her father is thankfully silent now that his fuming has reached its peak. She can hear him making arrangements in her name for a flight. She is only vaguely surprised that she doesn't care.

_"You used me Fitz. You dangled my career and my self-respect in front of the press to keep me here. How can you not see what's wrong with that? You sacrificed my life without thought to what I want!"_

_"Bullshit Liv! You want this, you want us. What difference does it make how we get there? What matters, or at least what I thought mattered, was that we were going to be together and no one could hold us hostage for a damn thing."_

_"Where is the logic in this move Fitz? Huh? How is destroying me in public EVER conducive to us being together? What you've ensured is that I have to wait for you until you unsaddle Mellie. No one will work with me, no one will want to associate with me or even, even …". You've destroyed what I held most precious other than you … my self-conviction. I've known you were selfish, no politician is otherwise, but Fitz, you ruined me to keep me."_

She awakes with a start. The hand on her arm is not gentle as it pulls her from the car. Blinking at the runway lights, she makes out a small plane with its steps lowered and a pilot waiting at the door. The hand on her arm shakes her and she stops to look at its owner. Her father bends down and moves his face within inches of hers. Shrinking back a little, Olivia still cannot bring her eyes to his face.

"Ordinarily, I would be able to trust you to fly solo without adult supervision. Given the circumstances, I will accompany you to Virginia and make sure that you reach your destination. Now give me your phone."

Olivia silently opens her purse and extends it toward her father. She has not uttered a word and doesn't care to. Her father snatches her phone, keys and wallet.

"You won't need these again. Once we reach our destination, we will issue you a new phone, identification and everything else required to start fresh. Now let's go."

Olivia is once again taken by the upper arm and dragged across the tarmac into the plane. She's placed in the back of the plane and belted in like a small child. Her father takes the seat across from her and snaps his fingers for an attendant. The attendant is clearly military and salutes her father before asking "What can I get you Sir?"

"Bring me a scotch and the young lady will have a glass of Shiraz." Making eye contact with the steward, he meaningfully makes one last request. "Please make sure the wine is in our standard issue wine glass. Thank you." With a curt nod, the attendant steps away.

Olivia has gazed out the window during the exchange showing no interest in the attendant or her surroundings for that matter. She jumps a little when the plane engines start. It has started to mist rain outside and the in-ground lights take on a sheen that makes them twinkle prettily.

The attendant returns with their drinks. She ignores the stemless wine glass on the table in front of her, uninterested in drinking it. Her father leans forward in the small space, roughly grabs her wrist and forces the glass in her hand.

"Drink it. Now."

Olivia flinches at the pain in her wrist. Dutifully, she raises the glass to her lips and stares at her father over its rim, drinking deeply. She notes the slight grittiness and makes a face.

"Finish it. The bottle has been on the plane a long time. Likely sediment stirred up during the pour."

Olivia ignores him and finishes the rest of her wine. The attendant silently retrieves her glass and brings her father another scotch. She pulls the blanket from the seat next to her and arranges it around her middle. Bone tired is a poor description for the exhaustion she feels. The plane taxis forward and as it begins to line up for its takeoff, Olivia feels a heaviness take over her body. She doesn't fight it and welcomes the creeping numbness spreading through her limbs. After the day she's just experienced, she's surprised that numbness is all that's wrong with her body - she's pretty sure that her heart is well south of where it used to be.

She looks over at her father and he seems far away. The plane is somehow bigger and her seat is nearly as wide as a love seat now. She closes her eyes and places a hand over her lower stomach trying to soothe the sudden roil. 'Cheap wine', she thinks.

As the plane gathers speed, she allows herself to float off grateful that she can escape, even if it's in under her father's eye.

April 2011

"Please stop Fitz."

Olivia tries to rise from the President's lap in the press anteroom. It is 2 minutes before Fitz has to make a speech on the government's anti-monopoly policy. Deliberately ignoring her, Fitz holds her by the hips and tries to kiss her.

"Fitz, I said stop it. Enough."

With a huff, Fitz rolls his head back, but doesn't release her. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling as he goes through it once more.

"Olivia, we've talked about this already. I've made it clear that I will run again. I will conduct a campaign that is clean and I've agreed to keep Mellie by my side while I do it. I've agreed to all you've asked. Why can't you give me your word that you'll stay? With Cyrus recovering, I need you now. More than ever."

Exasperated, Olivia turns in his hands and sits with her back to him. She takes a breath and tries to override the spooling heat between her legs. It is hard to talk to him when his hands are on her. She finds herself more concerned with where he'll put them next. It is usually never where she expects and she loves that. Loves it, but is very distracted by it. While her shift has allowed her to avoid looking at him, it has only increased the contact of his hardness between the apex of her thighs.

"Mmmm, that's better", Fitz rumbles into the side of her neck. With a sharp tug, he pulls her hips back, shifts his hips forward, and begins to slide her back and forth along the length of his cock. Olivia's breath quickens when he varies the sliding motion with an upward grind of his hips. He knows she wants to talk, but he can't focus on anything but the damp heat radiating from her between her legs. With just a minute left before they call for him, he can't stop grinding himself against her. Breath hitching, Fitz drags her hips up and down the seam of his cock from root to tip. As the knob of his of cock passes across her clit for the second time, pinpoints of stars begin to form in the back of her eyes. Olivia grips his thighs and tries to still his movements.

"Fitz, you're not listening. Mellie can make the time between now and the primaries very difficult for you. Your should focus your energies on reelection and not on how to keep Mellie from interfering with your campaign. Think about it and you'll see I'm right."

Fitz ignores her as he pulls her hips down tight against his and gruffs out his response timed to the steady upward motion of his hips.

"You don't think …" _grind "..._ I know that?"

He groans softly in her ear and places a hand on the back of her neck, pushing her forward and holding her there. Bent at the waist with her hips never leaving contact with his, Olivia is angled to receive the full brunt of Fitz brutally grinding himself between her legs.

Olivia whimpers softly as his cock roughly drags back and forth against her fabric covered clit. She cannot believe it when she feels the stirrings of an orgasm. If she doesn't stop this now, she's going to agree to stay. Fitz's manipulation of her during sex is true to form. He's using his sexual influence over her to get her to agree to run his campaign.

She can hear Fitz's rhythmic breathing escalate as he rubs his cock harder between her legs. His breathing is becoming ragged and she knows him well enough to hear him reaching the point of no return. This has to stop now or he'll keep going until they both come.

Olivia wrenches herself from his grip and staggers across the room to the locked door. She ignores the burning throb between her legs. Her neck smarts from his grip. So caught up in bringing them to orgasm, Fitz is surprised that she's gotten away from him. He collapses back in the chair and groans loudly. Unfortunately for him, the Secret Service are attuned to his every sound they become concerned. There's a knock at the door.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

Fitz is unable to respond as the ache of the interrupted orgasm cramps his lower belly. He groans again looking at Olivia straightening her clothes.

"Sir? Sir, please answer. Are you alright?"

The knocks become more persistent and Olivia hears urgent whispers in the hall. With a soft hiss, Olivia jerks her hand toward the closed door. "Answer them Fitz!"

Fitz gets up, wincing at the stiffness in his pants, and walks over to her.

"Just a second Tom."

Olivia flattens her back against the door as Fitz steps into her space, crowding and overpowering her with his size. His cock rubs insistently against her belly, probing and unashamedly stroking across her navel. She keeps her eyes on his chest not trusting herself to make eye contact. He presses closer still and runs his hands down her sides and over her hips, gripping them gently. He gives them a little shake.

"Eyes up Livvie. Come on."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

The soft rumble of his voice acts like a hand under her chin. She squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes.

"I said no Fitz. I can't help you get reelected if I'm the distraction. You can win without me. So … no."

Fitz presses his forehead against hers and ignores the knock on the door.

"One minute Mr. President."

Without breaking eye contact, Fitz pulls down the side zipper of her pants and brushes her hands and weak protests aside. Slipping a hand down the front of her pants, he pauses for a moment.

"Panties? Oh, Miss Livvie, we are rebelling. You know better love."

Olivia tries to push against his chest and instead curls her fingers around his lapels, holding on against the sudden tilt shift of her world when his hand slips between her legs. Fitz's insistent fingers stroke her opening. He slides a finger in to the hilt and circles inside her wetness. Olivia's head jerks back against the door with a thump.

"Shh, shh Liv. Tom will think I need help getting out of the room."

Fitz pushes his finger deep inside her and forces his mouth down on hers. Tonguing her lips open, Fitz kisses her with his natural assertiveness, guiding her mouth to respond to him. With a whimper, Olivia parts her thighs and he rewards her with deep and slow pumps of his finger. Fitz gently bites her lower lip and releases it with a soft, but audible pop.

"This discussion isn't over. After the press conference, I've got a briefing on our anti-monopoly platform." _Pump. "_After that I have a foreign policy meeting with Hastings and the Secretary of State." _Pump. _"I'll return to my office at 8:30 p.m. and I expect to see you there. _Grind. _"Ok? I just want you to hear me out."

"30 seconds Sir", Tom calls out from the hallway.

Fitz pulls his finger out of her cunt and puts in his mouth, savoring the taste of her. Eyes wide, Olivia watches as he cleans off all evidence of her shiny arousal, fascinated by his tongue. His eyes never leaving hers, Fitz whispers, "I will never get tired of the way you taste."

Blinking at him, Olivia says nothing as Fitz tucks in her blouse and zips up her pants. She watches him with awed wonder as his composure returns in small ways that only she would notice - his pupils retract from dilation, the flush along his neckline fades and his shoulders relax slightly, no longer meeting his ears.

As he arranges a strand of hair behind her ear, Fitz smiles at her then kisses her softly on the lips.

"Lipstick?" he says questioningly as he pulls back, his best half grin in place.

Reaching up, she wipes a thumb across his lips and tries not to smile.

"You're good."

Olivia steps to the side and hands Fitz his talking points. He walks through the door and as he gives her a parting glance, she says softly so only he can hear, "The answer is still no Fitz."

Startled, Fitz's step falters a bit before he continues on to the press room. Tom nods at her and closes the door.

May 2011

The thump of the plane landing snaps her awake. She's surprised to see the sky taking on a pre-dawn hue. Trying to find her shoes, Olivia notes that her slow-moving clumsiness is particularly intense this morning. Usually, she's sluggish until she's seen the sun. But today she's feels as if she moving through yards of wet material.

Impatiently standing over her, Olivia's father signals to the flight attendant who snaps to his side. The Branch Director issues an order.

"Son, bring her to the car. I'll be right behind you."

Jake Ballard nods curtly and gathers Olivia in his arms, Her eyes are half closed and she doesn't protest when he lifts her bodily to his chest. Laying her head on his shoulder, she drifts away again, too tired to wonder who would bother to carry her anywhere. Jake tries to ignore the stirrings of guilt as Olivia lays limply in his arms. He knows he could have knocked back the dose to half, but for her sake he wanted her to get some rest and a retreat away from her father's intensity. She'd looked shattered when she boarded the plane; a meek child accepting punishment. So incapable of raising her head, she didn't notice him attending to their needs during the flight. While they flew towards their destination, his eyes never left her. He'd noticed her dreaming. There's no doubt in his mind that it was a sexual dream. Her lips were parted and her head rolled on her shoulders as if she were spurred on by pleasure. He knew it was lucky that the Director was on the phone the entire flight or he might have forced her to have another glass of wine. He wondered if she dreamt about the President.

Once Jake got her settled into the car, he belted her in and put her shoes on her feet. She didn't respond as he carefully laid her head against the window and stroked her cheek. In sleep, her sadness came through, unrestrained by the mask she usually wore while awake. The downturn of her mouth and the slight frown lines between her eyes gave away exactly what she was feeling. Unable to witness what was partly his fault, Jake turns away and closes the door of the car. He mentally prepared himself for the conversation he was about to have with the Director. If he could play this right, he might be the one the Director selected to shadow his daughter for the next 6 months. As with most transfers, the Director usually selected an agent to ensure the subject fully took to his/her new life. It was a sure bet that he would be the one selected, but he had to appear reluctant to do so. Any eagerness on his part would arouse the Director's suspicions.

He straightened his posture as the Director strode to the car. Before getting in, the Director turns and speaks quickly as is his custom.

"Son, I know you were in line for an appointment on the President's staff and you sacrificed that when you went into the hole. If you give me six months, I can make sure that you have a place in the White House after President Grant exits in November. Can you do that? Can you give me six months?"

Jake allows his lips to tighten and speaks curtly.

"Sir, I don't believe six months will be enough to get me back on track. I need to plan an alternative career if …"

"Son, have I ever given you cause to doubt my word?"

"No Sir. However, I have to address my future now so …"

"Your future is what I make of it Son. That is what you need to remember. If I decide that the best thing for your future is a tour in Syria, so be it. If I decide that you go back in the hole for six months, so be it. What you fail to understand is that I do not care how _you_ would like to spend the next six months. My only concern is that you watch my daughter until she's assimilated. So, the choice is now in your hands. Syria, the hole or another surveillance detail with subject matter you seem to enjoy based on the tape I saw. Choose correctly before I make the choice for you."

Jake quells the anger he feels and reminds himself that his end goal is to be near her, atone to her. The thought of the hole is too much for him to consider. The hole changes you, takes you away into yourself and no one in B-613 can afford to look inward. No one.

"Yes, Sir. Virginia it is Sir."

"Good job Son. Don't ever question me again."

Jake nods stiffly and opens the door for the Director. Olivia's father climbs in and says, "I will be in touch in the next 24 hours. Be available."

Closing the door, the car drives off and Jake watches them speed toward the highway. It is only after they are well out of sight does he allow himself to smile.


	3. Chapter 2 - There's A Reason

Chapter 2

June 2011

Fitz stands in the middle of the presidential bedroom holding three ties. It's an hour before the daily campaign briefing and he's looking at the ties without really seeing them. In the background, like the hum of a television, Mellie chatters as she gets ready to join him for her first day as a full member of the strategy team. She's excited to have a more substantive role in the campaign and has been talking about it non-stop. He wishes she would be quiet so he could move through this shit of a day in relative silence. Last night was a mockery of sleep. He'd gotten up no less than 4 times to go down to the Oval Office and stare at the phone. When he realized that he didn't have the courage to call, he broke down, stifling sobs in the sleeves of his robe. _'She will never come back.'_

"Fitz, I think Quentin will do an excellent job in Cyrus' place. The new Joint Chiefs of Staff has to shoulder quite a bit and Quentin's young enough to do job. If he could just back down the bitchiness I might throw him a dinner party … "

Fitz takes the red tie Olivia snatched from an intern when he was running for his first term as President. He's surprised the sight of it hasn't stopped his heart. _'Do I have your vote Olivia?' _

Mellie drones on as he steps to the mirror to fix his tie. "Will it be ok if I offer preliminary comments on the anti-monopoly platform? I know it's early in the campaign, but you know I have a lot of support in the corporate world and maybe I can rally some of the larger companies to … "

Fitz knots the tie neatly and takes a breath when he sees his eyes in the mirror. He was never going to be 40 again, but an old man was looking back at him - grim, sad and angry. Big Gerry's face. The shadows are not yet pronounced, but they are a few sleepless nights away from advertising something is wrong. The act of tying his tie has exhausted him. To add to that, Mellie's non-stop commentary is like the buzzing of a hornets nest. A cold, manipulative hornets nest. He turns to see Mellie putting on a pair of heels and the diatribe is still flowing.

"Mellie."

Startled, she looks up at the sound of his toneless voice. He speaks so rarely when they're alone, she's gotten used to his silence.

"Feel free to take notes at the meeting and submit them to Quentin for review and discussion with me later in the week. If you want to a seat at the table, you'll have to earn it like any other member of this team", he says quietly.

Mellie sets her mouth in a firm line and says nothing. Her battles with him have to be carefully selected these days. His temper is on hair-trigger lately, and she's not about to jeopardize the chance to jump-start her political career with petty marital tiffs. It can wait.

"Of course Fitz. I'll have Quentin submit my preliminary memo after the the Naval fundraising dinner. Any choice on who you'd like on the daïs?"

Fitz has already turned away and is making his way to the bedroom door. "You pick Mellie. I don't care", he says as he walks out. Each step is like swimming through molasses. The day is hopelessly stretched out in front of him and he knows it will end just like the others - without her. He considers calling down to the kitchen for an espresso. Or a scotch. Yeah, breakfast scotch. Christ, he was pathetic. He doesn't know how he got to this place.

Mellie's tight smile fades to a grimace when Fitz is gone. She's used to dealing with a dead marriage, nothing new there. But the "post-Olivia" Fitz is stone cold compared to the forlorn love-sick fool he'd been months before. It was unnerving to see such iciness from him. She checks her outfit one last time and whispers, "You are better than your circumstances girl. You are better than your circumstances. Overcome them." After she pats down a stray hair, she exits the bedroom ready to take on her first campaign briefing.

The briefing room is packed and Fitz has tuned out most of the strategizing - it's too much of an effort to pay attention. He just doesn't have it in him today. He's not just tired, he's close to giving up. He needs some part of her with him. Something more than his memories. Something he can see, touch … anything. He seizes on the smallest details of their time together a month ago.

'_She was going to have her hair appointment today. She promised not to cut too much because she knew I liked the length. She, she …"_

Fitz blinks away the sting in his eyes and returns his attention to the flow of discussion in the conference room. The last topic on the agenda is the anti-monopoly platform and he is just not sure he has the energy to launch into an in-depth discussion. He's on empty and it's starting to show. He takes a pen from the table and deliberately presses it into his thigh until the pain gets his adrenaline going. After the pain subsides, he's more alert, but no less tired. He just wants some quiet. Leader of the free world and he cannot find 15 minutes of peace in his own life now. It's amazing to him how he and Olivia ever got time to together. He holds in the groan of pain he seems to feel when he recalls touching her, holding her. _'We'll be together now and You will be my First Lady."_

To end the never-ending discussion, he decides to give Mellie all the distraction she can handle and himself a much-needed respite from her suffocation. He needs a quiet corner, a drink and space to replay where he went wrong with Olivia. Or where she went wrong with him. Either way, he had to deal with it. He was being eaten alive from the inside out.

"Everyone, at this time our anti-monopoly platform is the weakest link in our plan for reelection. As such, I will need to shore up this area with incontestable research, credible experts willing to comment on our behalf and a plan of attack which makes me look strong on competitive commerce. Given the enormity of this task and with our personnel stretched so thin on current presidential matters of foreign policy, I elect Mellie Grant to handle this part of the campaign."

Murmurs of surprise spread throughout the conference room. Mellie sits quietly looking at him, shock clear on her face. As the murmurs subside, Fitz continues.

"As this undertaking will eat into some of her duties as First Lady, I hope with Quentin's help, she can execute this important assignment without impacting her scheduled list of campaign appearances. Quentin, I hope you're up to the task", Fitz says, amused to see the look of discomfort on his Joint Chiefs of Staff's face. It is the worst kept secret on the Hill that Quentin and Mellie are less than friendly. It will be interesting to see them working together.

"Mr. President, thank you. I look forward to working with the First Lady on this matter. I won't let either of you down," Quentin says as he smiles woodenly at the First Lady.

Pleased that he has removed two nagging problems in one stroke, the President adjourns the meeting.

"Thank you everyone."

'_She's probably done with her hair appointment by now and in her office, changing her jacket … she likes to do that when she's about to handle a new client. She's going in hard on this new … ". _He stands to leave and a sudden wave of vertigo overtakes him. He slows his ascent and places a hand on the table to steady himself. _'Livvie, help me.'_

Mellie is suddenly in his line of vision. She steps into his arms and embraces him. Fitz is confused because he cannot recall the last time she voluntarily touched him in public. It all makes sense when Mellie shifts his weight so that he's leaning on her. To the rest of the room, it appears the First Couple are sharing a loving display of affection. What Mellie is actually doing is keeping him on his feet so he doesn't sag down into the chair. _'Too close. One more second and half the room would have seen me faint like a 12 year old girl. Liv, baby, how couldn't you see I just wanted us to be together?'_

Mellie huffs from the effort of holding him up, but plays her part like the consummate actress she's learned to be.

"Oh sweetheart thank you for trusting me with this assignment. I won't make you regret it", she says sweetly, belying nothing about the stress and anger she feels in the moment. She is absolutely furious.

The rest of the room files out quickly, embarrassed to witness an intimate moment between the President and the First Lady. Once the last person is through the door, Mellie unceremoniously drops Fitz in his chair. As she tries to catch her breath, she leans over, hands on her knees and looks angrily at Fitz.

"You unthinking little shit. What if they'd seen you?", she grinds out between clenched teeth. "You have to _sleep_ or you'll have a goddamn psychotic break. Jesus, get yourself together!", she snaps.

Too tired to care about the venom spewing in his direction, Fitz leans his head back and tries to halt the spinning room. He needs Liv. Now. How the fuck could she leave him here with the sharks? He needs someone on his side. Without Cyrus, he was alone. Where is she? He can barely hear Mellie calling for Tom, but definitely feels the agent pulling him up and through the inner office passages to his bedroom wing. "Liv, take me to Liv's place Tom", he says quietly, head hanging down. Tom glances behind him and sees Mellie following them at a distance. "Sir, Ms. Pope has left the D.C. area. We can't go to her place. Someone bought it", Tom says quickly. Mellie catches up and follows them into bedroom. Tom lays Fitz down on the bed then seems uncertain what to do.

"Thank you Tom. That will be all", Mellie says as she takes off Fitz's shoes and loosens his belt.

"Are you sure you don't want the House medic Ma'am?", Tom asks concerned.

"No Tom. He just needs a quiet evening. Tell the chef we'll take dinner in our room - broth, toast points and a half carafe of that Santa Barbara rosé I like. Thank you." Tom leaves quietly and she's relieved to see him go. She's nearing a decision and doesn't want witnesses to her agitation.

"Gone. Doesn't live there? When?", Fitz groggily mumbles into the pillow.

With a glance at the clock, Mellie hurriedly unbuttons Fitz's shirt. She needs at least 12 hours before he has to get up in the morning. Once he's undressed and in his Navy t-shirt and shorts, she undresses, puts on a robe and dims the lights in the bedroom before heading to the bathroom. _'Domestic terrorism. If he finds out, that's what he'll charge me with. Good Christ am I really doing this?' _She's so scared she's starting to sweat. If there's an emergency tonight, she'll have to stall until the morning as best she can. Hastings can cover until he's on his feet. Mellie pulls the taped bottle from behind the bathroom mirror and stares at it.

'_I could get Tom to do it. He loves Fitz, protects him. Tom would know I have no other choice.'_

Mellie looks at her image in the mirror and her flushed face is all tics and hectic color. _'No, no way in hell will Tom do it. He'd rather betray his own mother before betraying Fitz. All roads lead to Fitz. I have to do this myself.'_

When the knock on the sitting room door comes, she hurries to accept the wheeled tray. Alone, she lifts the soup lid and lets her hand hover above its contents. _'Just for tonight. He'll think he over extended himself. The effects are short-lived at this dosage. Worst case - a headache in the morning. Best case - he's rested with memories of a sex dream that seemed a little too real.'_

She drops the MDMA tablet in the soup bowl before she loses her nerve. She replaces the lid and wheels the cart in the bedroom. '_Now or never Mellie.' _

Fitz is only vaguely conscious of someone moving around the bedroom. _'Livvie?' _He feels a dip on the bed and a soft lamp is turned on near his head. He's so relieved to have her here, he puts his hand on her leg and squeezes. Oh thank God she came back. I can breathe, I can breathe. He squints his eyes against the light and sees Mellie sitting next to him with a bowl of soup and a spoon in her hand. _'For fuck sake.'_ He grunts and shakes his head. He can't tell reality from fantasy anymore. All of the safety and comfort he'd been feeling moments ago is rapidly fleeing him.

"No Mellie. I'm not hungry. I just need some sleep."

"Fitz, the House medic asked me to make sure that you ate some soup otherwise he was going to have to report your condition to the Joint Chiefs. I'm sure you don't want Quentin alerting the Vice President that anything is wrong right?

Fitz groans and throws an arm over his eyes.

"Come on honey. Have a little soup then I will let you sleep to your heart's content. Just eat for God's sake."

Fitz allows her to prop some pillows behind his head and takes the first few spoonfuls of broth without comment. He resents the interruption of his fantasy of Liv taking care of him. It isn't Mellie's fault, but he needs to put his anger somewhere and she's not Liv. She's not Liv. Mellie stirs the broth and he notices she hasn't said a word about the anti-monopoly appointment.

"Anti-monopoly not enough Mel? Were you expecting me to hand over immigration or even Pakistan for that matter?"

Mellie purses her lips, but does not answer right away. She spoons more broth into his mouth and answers after he's swallowed.

"I'm excited to have a challenge Fitz. It's not the subject matter. It's the watchdog you've placed by the door."

"Oh Quentin is harmless unless you cross him. Besides, he's good practice for the real sharks Mellie. Congress is Quentin with a Uzi. Make it a learning experience."

The tension eases from her mouth as Mellie looks at him, trying to judge whether he's helping her or throwing her to the wolves. His eyelids are at half mast and she knows he's about to succumb to sleep. Putting the bowl down, she grabs a glass of rosé and rouses him once more.

"Fitz. Fitz, sit up and drink a little of this. It's not scotch, but it will have to do."

Anxious to get her off his back, Fitz struggles up on his elbows and takes a sip of the wine. "Santa Barbara right?", he says as he takes another sip.

"That's right. You haven't forgotten home after all."

Fitz sighs and takes another sip. "No, I haven't. The meaning of home seems to change on me. Sometimes I don't know what that word means any more. I used to.", he says sadly.

He sounds so down, Mellie almost feels sorry for putting the Ecstasy in his soup. Almost.

She knows that Fitz has to find some release and actually sleep. Otherwise, the staff will begin to notice something is wrong with their beloved leader. Fitz is a highly sexual person, not that she's ever understood why, and just like needing his workouts, power, etc., he's most balanced when he's able to consistently engage in all of the activities he enjoys. She knows she's not his first choice sexually, but she has try something. He'd never come to her willingly. The low dosage Ecstasy will give him just enough of a high to get him hard and hallucinatory - after that he'd fuck a greased knot in a tree if it were available. She doesn't feel any regret that it's come to this. He's wallowing in a depressive state and left her without viable options to snap him out of it. There was no way she was going to let that conniving little bitch back into his life so he could continue the fuckfest he had the audacity to call "love". Fuckfests. That's how she always imagined their interactions. Sweaty, grunting couplings where they clawed at each other and then laughed about her once it was done. Never again.

Deep in her reverie, she hadn't noticed Fitz fall asleep. She looks at his sleeping form for a few moments and knows that she has a small window to get ready. She wheels the cart out of the way and changes into a white satin night-gown. Small cheat, but she needs to make certain that he has some indicators of the whore. She turns out all of the lights and climbs in beside Fitz pressing her body against his side. He' s so _warm_.

He's starting to show the rapid eye movement the doctor told her about - right on track. With Ecstasy, the effects come on quickly and fade just as rapidly. However, for the first 20 minutes after ingesting the drug, the hormonal effects are at their peak. It is during this period the user is at his/her most aroused. So far, that much seemed right. His breathing was becoming more labored and a light sheen of sweat was forming on his upper lip. His soft moan makes her jump. _'Damn it. Get a hold of yourself. You've got to see this through girl.'_

Mellie looks down and notices his erection pressed tight against his shorts. Tentatively, she touches his cock and snatches her hand back in surprise. Never in all the years they've made love, including the first time he fucked her, has he been so hard. At her touch, Fitz groans deeply and arches his hips into the air. "Touch me … please baby I need you", Fitz breathes out as he thrusts his hips up.

She's revolted. He is writhing around on the bed like an animal. Still asleep, his hand finds his cock and he begins fisting it through his shorts. He pulls himself free and strokes it with an intensity she's never seen before. He groans again and starts to fuck his hand. If she wasn't so repulsed, she might have been fascinated by the show of unrestrained passion. Admittedly, she's always liked the size of his penis. But only when she could control how fast and how deep it went inside her. There were a few times he'd tried to push her past the traditional lovemaking she preferred and each time she had gotten angry and defensive. He knew the terrain - shame on him if he got bored with the landscape.

'_Duty calls.' _With a beleaguered sigh, she puts her hand on his chest and leans in to kiss him. A quick blow job and this was over. At least he wouldn't be awake to ask her to swallow his cum for the umpteenth time. What she did not expect was his reaction to her lips on his. He immediately grabs her face and rolls until he is on top of her, kissing her aggressively and shoving his tongue into her mouth. Mellie inhales sharply and is about to say something to slow him down when he pushes two fingers into her mouth and growls, "Suck them."

Shocked, she instinctively runs her tongue over his fingers and is surprised when his tongue joins hers, curling and sucking with her. Fitz hikes up her nightgown and she can hear the material tear as he yanks it out of the way. She has a moment of respite when he lifts up to roughly rip off her panties. Before she can register that she is now naked below the waist, he moves deftly down her body until his face is between her thighs. Alarmed, Mellie tries to close her legs, a time-worn signal that is familiar to both of them. It meant "No, I don't want you to lick me there." It meant "No, I hate it when you spit all over me." If all of that was unclear, it definitely meant "Don't make me dirtier than I already am."

While this signal move has worked during the 22 plus years of their marriage, it did not seem to work tonight. Fitz shoves her legs open and slaps the inside of her thigh. The sound ricochets around the bedroom and she freezes in place, not really registering what just happened.

"Don't ever close them to me again", Fitz grunts as he leans in, smelling her and nuzzling her opening with his nose.

Mellie is too stunned to speak. She is dumbfounded by the raw aggression in his voice and is not sure if she can get herself out of this before it is too late. She's about to pull away when his tongue finally touches her.

Unlike the past, Fitz isn't tentative in his touch this time. He licks a firm, wet path from the bottom of her slit and up and over her clit. He laps at the sensitive nub of flesh with a slow and deliberate basting that sends shocks down her legs. Her entire clit is surrounded by his tongue and it is relentlessly licked over and over. Mellie throws her head back and can't stop the mewl that emits from her throat. He continues to lap at her, never once missing her clit. It's almost a worshipping the way his impossibly wet tongue works her cunt. He dips his tongue inside her and she can hear the moist sounds his mouth makes against her flesh. _'So fucking good. Oh suck me. Suck my clit.' _

Unhinged, Mellie involuntarily moans and begins to writhe on the bed. Fitz quickly grabs her hips and stills her movements. He gives her clit a small nip and says, "Don't move. When you come, it'll be because I let you, not because you took it."

Mellie's throat tightens and she realizes his hold on her hips have immobilized her. Now subject to his rhythm, Fitz adds a new torture to her clit … the soft suction of his lips. He sucks gently at first, drawing her clit into his mouth then releasing it to lap at the swollen flesh. He begins a pattern that is a beautiful agony of _suckle, lick, suckle, lick_. With each repetition, he tightens his lips and draws her clit in a little harder. She's completely hostage to the sensations and can't seem to form a coherent thought. _'More, oh yes lick me." _The intensity ratchets up until she is nearly shrieking with each breath. She feels the stirrings of her orgasm and is struck dumb by the long forgotten sensation. Stiff with fear, Mellie forgets to keep her hips still and bucks helplessly against his tongue.

Fitz snarls and brings his forearms up over her lower belly. With her hips trapped securely against the bed, he returns to sucking and licking her clit harder and faster. He's no longer finessing her, he's devouring her. The smacking sounds of his tongue and lips against her cunt pushes her closer to orgasm. He growls as he forces his tongue deep inside her, circling, leaving no part of her cunt untouched. Unbelievably, his growls are turning her on. '_Oh God, he actually growls_.' Her hips jerk upward and his roughened voice whispers, "Move again and I'll stop".

Mellie feels a tightness gathering in her groin and nearly pushes it away in a panic. But Fitz suctions his lips around her clit and suckles it deep into his mouth. The tip of his tongue circles her clit every time he draws it between his lips. _'Too much, too much. Coming, oh fuck, I'm …'. _Her back arches and she wails as she comes, faintly aware that Fitz is still sucking her, never letting up on his tonguing.

As she begins to come down from her orgasm, she gasps to find herself being flipped over and face down on the bed. Fitz grabs her wrists and gathers them in his hand just under her chin. He settles between her legs and uses his free hand to line up his cock at her entrance and begins to inch in and out of her. He allows each thrust to coat his cock with her juices then he backs out to push forward again, a little deeper inside. The entire time, Mellie is whispering "Fitz, Fitz, wait, Fitz." She's so sensitive now and his cock feels like it's too much to take. Eventually, he's fully seated inside her and he stops to put his free hand over her mouth.

Breathing hard against her shoulder, he pants out, "Baby, why do you keep telling me what to do? Just take it. Stop fighting me and take it like always. It feels good baby, you always say it feels so good. Stop fighting me." With an unexpected lurch, her desire slams into her with a jarring intensity. He wants her. He's always complained about her "directing" him in bed. He's responding … to her. Relief washes over her, acute and palpable in its depth. He _wants_ her.

Once he starts fucking her, she stops caring about the why and only wants to feel the now. He so big inside her, so much more than before. His grip on her wrists hurt, but his cock is moving deeply and steadily inside her and she doesn't care about the pain. Fitz leans down so that his body fully covers hers and pistons his hips against her, picking up the pace. As he drives her into the bed, she whimpers openly; moaning when he goes too deep and mewling when his strokes are too shallow. After the second cervix tap, she mindlessly climbs the bed, overwhelmed and desperate to get away from him. He roughly drags her back and slams into her without preamble. "Never run from me, not here," he grumbles against the back of her neck without missing a beat. His breathing is labored and now and then, especially when he's deep inside her, he gruffs out the dirtiest things she's ever heard.

"That's right, open that little cunt for me."

"So wet baby. My dick is making you so wet."

"Beg me to go deeper. Take it, even if it hurts. Take all of it. Swallow that dick inside."

Mellie feels herself beginning to come again and as it builds, Fitz slips two fingers against her tongue with a command.

"Suck them while you cum. Now."

After all the shocks she's endured, Mellie instinctively begins to suck his fingers, too caught up in her growing orgasm to protest. Her inner Mellie has gone quiet and is in full slut mode looking for rough trade. All she wants is to be what he wants - become what he needs. Her mind goes blank when Fitz grabs her hair and starts to fuck her hard enough for smacking sounds to fill the air. _'Harder, fuck me, uh fuck me.' _ When Fitz hits her cervix with a rapid series of taps she goes over the edge, screaming her orgasm around his fingers.

He has grown to unimaginable proportions inside her. Hard, slick and relentless, his cock pounds out a ruthless cadence. Just as he begins to come, he presses his mouth against her ear and growls, "Gonna cum baby, uh yeah, oh fuck take my cum." She feels him pulse inside her and then the hot stream of his orgasm spilling over. His grip tightens in her hair and he gasps, "Beautiful, love you, Livvie, God, I love you."

Mellie goes rigid as a board. Fitz's harsh gasps subside in her ear and he rolls off her, leaving her chilled to the marrow with realization. She's surprised when he gathers her against his chest and rubs his face in her hair. Her shock and hurt leaves her mute with pain. She thought … well she thought he'd realized it was her. Her eyes are hot with tears and her humiliation is like a ball of shame caught in her throat. She's trapped by her deception now; ensnared like a bloodied and wounded animal.

He murmurs incoherently as he strokes her back. His voice is soft and loving; full of contentment and satiety.

"Mmmm, baby that was so good."

"Hope I didn't hurt your hair love."

"Let's stay here tonight. I'll go back before the press corps. gets there."

"Love you Livvie. Please don't leave me."

Mellie quickly wipes her face, trying to stem the flow of tears. _'Not enough. I will never be enough.' _Fitz pulls her closer and settles into sleep; wrapped around her like he's afraid she's going to disappear. No, not her. Olivia. Not wanting to risk his fully waking, she takes the tender comfort meant for someone else. The old ache in her middle returns; a familiar and lonely descent into rejection. Again. The eschewal hooks its claws deep in her insecurity, gleeful to have familiar soil to grow. The rebuff tears her apart until her trusted mechanism of prideful resentment claws forth to stand on the detritus of what she thought was good and real.

How gentle and thoughtful he is with _her_. How protective and easy he is with _her _in his arms. She wants to bolt. She wants to slap him. She wants to scream. She wants to pretend that this is Fitz wanting her like before. Just for a little while. Just for tonight, even if it isn't real. She wants it. She wants him.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

June 2011

The wine glass sits clumsily in her hand; it's shaking contents give away the occasional waves of shivers running down her back. She's not sure, but she thinks she has a fever. Or the flu. Maybe she's having an allergic reaction to a raging case of pathetic. _Who the hell knows. _She glances at her injured hand and sighs. Oh. That's probably not good. Her bandaged palm doesn't look too clean. She can't remember the last time she changed the gauze. It's 3:30 a.m. and she's sitting in the window seat of her living room staring unseeingly out at the valley below. Her sleep last night was a pitiful affair, full of bad dreams, racing thoughts and self recriminations. She typically slept well when he was ... when he held ... Olivia weakly shoves the thought away with a hoarsely whispered, "No, not yet."

She takes a sip of wine and considers her unrested state, looking for a positive in the "art" of sleep deprivation. Alright, upside - she doesn't need sleep, she's a woman outside the rat race now. There are no appointments to keep, no business to run. In her other life, she was a shark, move or die. In this bizarre new world, she doesn't need sleep and has all of the numbing freedom she can stomach. New armor for a new existence. Truth be told, this new life chose her. _Oh really now? Listen to that buck passing greasily along._

So here she was, free to pursue normal. Yes, she's free to function as a regular person, warrior be damned. Have babies, make jam all the live long day. _Ouch_. That one actually stung. Last night, she slept deep and dreamless for the first three hours only to bolt upright at 10:00 p.m., shouting, her hand a throbbing mess. She couldn't remember what the dream was about, but when she reflexively reached for him, the knowledge of her loss welled up in her throat and burst out with a strangled sob. The tears eventually subsided leaving her wide awake and drained. She wearily gave up on sleep and came here to the window seat with a glass of cabernet to watch the sun drag itself skyward.

The last few weeks are as indistinct as a half remembered dream. Even her life in D.C. feels like a dream now and this new existence, this ... colorless state of being is how she's lived all along. Not too far from the truth. She grimaces as her hand throbs dully, tight and tingling with each pulse of blood. If it wasn't for the thudding ache in her palm, she'd feel nothing at all. Nothing. _Why hello self-pity. My apologies for neglecting you._

She sets down the wineglass to pull the blanket tightly around her. She feels hot, but uncomfortably chilled along her spine. And tired, so horribly tired. Eyes closing, she's unable to help it when her thoughts turn to memories of her first night alone in this new house. Grateful that she has more immediate events to dwell on, the memory of that night bleeds forward unhindered by the wine and her exhaustion.

_The drugs had worn off and she was in an ecstasy of fury. Rowan had drugged her, about that she certain. She had been hungover all day, vomiting and trembling. She wandered the house frightened by her confusion. After a shower and some soup, she felt well enough to take stock of new surroundings. She paced circles around the living room, sipping at a glass of Malbec and eyeing the moving boxes in the center hall. With each glance at her neatly stacked former life, she became more and more agitated. The boxes screamed failure and enormous loss._

_Another circle and she was strategizing in her head and discarding each new plan with a rapidity that was manic. One moment she was ready to call Huck hoping he would help despite her father. The next minute crushing pain was driving her to her knees when she remembered why she couldn't go back. Every sound in the unfamiliar house was magnified, nearly deafening in its strangeness. She understood what Huck had been feeling in the throes of PTSD. Her senses were too heightened and the anxiety she feels is nearly intolerable. At one point during her pacings, her eye fell on a shadowy corner of the dining room and she screamed because for an instant she thought she saw someone sitting there, watching her. Desperate, she raced to the boxes in the hall with the intent of unpacking some of their contents. She had to do something. She ripped opened a box and the first thing she saw was a little white china clock nestled in bubble wrap. The memory whipped forward with a vicious snap._

'Watch me choose you.'

_Unaware that she had begun to keen loudly, she pulled the clock from the box with fingers curled into claws._

_'_Run down this clock with me and watch me earn you.'

_Her head whipping back and forth, she backed into the middle of the living room, wildly sobbing. Unaware that she was speaking, her pain, her anger echoed against the walls with a frightening resonance._

_"He was right. My father could see it and I couldn't. I was too busy worrying about losing you to see I was losing myself. They use you and use you and use you. You USED ME!", she screamed with her head back._

_She spun in a circle desperately looking for something, anything to take her eyes away from the painful reminder of his lie._

_She stumbled to the cold fireplace and with a shriek, threw the clock into it. It shattered on impact making her flinch back from the spray of flying shards. The sound of the breaking glass jarred her out of her mindless haze of rage and her rigid posture drooped with defeat. Softly sobbing, she knelt in front of the fireplace and began picking up clock pieces with shaking hands. "You hurt me. How could you do that? How could you do that to me?", she tremulously whispered, trying to catch her breath. As she reached for another sliver, the glass cuts deep into her palm making her hiss. Oddly, the sight of her blood isn't alarming. She's been bleeding inside for so long it's almost comforting to see some evidence of the pain._

_Her outburst has left her numb and she's thankful for it. Weary to her core, she uses her last remaining energy to scoot back against the couch. _I want to be free of this. I want to be free of this parasitic obsession. Please let me be free of it. Please._ She leans her head back, too tired to stand. Her pulsating hand falls to her side and she doesn't notice the blood dripping down to the rug._

_"I have never been this tired in my life", she croaks to herself. Her voice is unrecognizable to her, dry and aged with bitterness. She knows she should get up and bandage her hand, but physical movement just seems impossible right now. "In a minute. I just want to sit here. Just a minute", she murmurs as her eyes fall shut. The blood from her cut continues to flow and soon the rug begins to turn red._

Uncomfortably caught up in the memory of that night, her hand begins to hurt in earnest as if in sympathy with her thoughts. She shifts on the window seat and presses her forehead against the glass. She doesn't remember much after passing out. But she does remember what happened the next morning. It's been more than two weeks since it happened and it still makes her burn.

In his apartment 4 miles away, Jake is waiting for the video link to begin so he can get his briefing over with Command. He's drinking coffee and thinking about Olivia. Again. He rubs his hand over his face and wonders whether he should go by her place today. It's been a few days since he last checked on her and he can't put it off any longer. Command wants his intelligence a regular basis. There's no disobeying that order.

Besides, her first night in the house was enough to keep him worrying. He remembers the cold fear that coursed through him when he saw the mess she'd become in just a few short hours. The memory of it sets his heart racing all over again.

_He'd entered the house expecting to find dark rooms and ticking quiet. He walked through the living room, and saw Olivia on the floor slumped over and bleeding. "Shit. _Shit_," he muttered darkly. "What the hell have you done Liv?"_

_He gathered her up, quickly carried her up to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. He got the first aid kit and bandaged her hand wondering how she missed her wrist and sliced her palm. An afterthought makes him pause. Olivia has not roused during all of his ministrations and he's concerned that she's done more than cut herself. He goes into the bathroom and inspects the medicine cabinet. There's a prescription for sleeping pills, issued two days ago. The cap is off and the bottle is upright on the counter. Alarmed, he quickly counts the pills and is relieved to see that only two are missing from the bottle._

_He heads downstairs and checks the kitchen, looking for caustics, poisons, anything that could be misused. The worst he finds is a half empty bottle of merlot._

Wine and two sleeping pills Thank God. Not fatal, but stupid. _He knows Olivia isn't thinking straight, but this whole scenario is tinged with a carelessness that makes him uneasy. And why the hell was she sitting in the middle of a glass pile, bleeding and passed out? That was a clear alarm._

_The relief he feels makes him to lay his trembling hands on the kitchen counter. He'd never been so scared than when he saw her lolling on the floor, hand opened up and bleeding everywhere. Scared of exactly what soldier? Losing her or losing your head to Command? He contemplates taking her to the emergency room when he hears her cry out from the bedroom. He gets a glass of water and brings it upstairs, setting it down near her in case she needs it. Olivia has curled up in a ball on her side and is in the throes of a restless dream, whimpering softly. He sits on her side of the bed and very gently rubs her back until she calms. When she's no longer whimpering, he gets up, turns out the bathroom light and removes his shoes and jacket. _No way she can be on her own tonight.

_He delicately settles down on the other side of the bed, avoiding any sudden shifts of weight that might wake her. Laying next to her, he allows himself the luxury of watching her sleep. During his first surveillance of her, this was one of the things he loved doing most. She was so vulnerable while sleeping. Somehow she seemed more open, receptive to care. Back then, he had to fight the temptation to sneak into her apartment and touch her face while she slept. Even he thought that was next level creepy._

_He sighs and settles a little closer to her, lightly checking her pulse and the bandage. Both seemed to be doing fine. He knows he is supposed to do an "eyes only" recon, but he doesn't want to leave her now. Olivia lets out a soft sob and rolls over onto her back. She throws her injured hand over her eyes as if warding off a sight that's too hurtful to see. Jake waits until she settles down again and when she does, he scoots closer to her, pulls her arm down and lays it across her waist. He promised himself that he would only make her more comfortable, but when she grabs his hand and places it on her stomach, he can't bring himself to break the connection._

_Hand on her warm belly, he turns on his side and watches the tension leave her face. As her sleep deepens, Jake gently strokes his thumb over her navel and she purrs, whispering, "Not rebelling. I can wear panties if I want to." Curious, he considers using sleep hypnosis to have her explain that little utterance and decides he might not like what he hears. He tells himself that he has no choice but to stay. She might get a knife and finish what she started. He tells himself that her soft breathing against his shoulder isn't as calming and right as it feels._ Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

_He sets his internal clock to 5:00 a.m. That should give him enough time to disappear and return to his apartment to make Command's mandatory briefing. Jake lays his head next to hers and memorizes each of her features again. Midway between noting that her left eyebrow was slightly higher than her right, he falls into a comfortable and heavy sleep._

_"You have got to be joking."_

_Jake snaps awake and is on his feet in an instant. The morning light in the room is all wrong. It's too bright. He looks across the bed and sees a furious and disheveled Olivia Pope standing with her fists clenched._ 'Oh shit.'

_"What are you doing in my house Jake?!"_

_He puts his hands up, buying time while he thinks. "Olivia, please calm down. You're not ready to be up and around after last night."_

_"Don't tell me to calm down! This is my house Jake! You did not wake up with me in YOUR bed. Now tell me why the hell you are in my house?!"_

_As she screams, Jake notices the bandage on her hand is bright red and she seems unsteady on her feet. He makes his way around the bed, speaking calmly. "Liv, I know I'm not the person you want to see right now, but you may not remember what happened last night." She takes a step back and wobbles, losing her balance. Jake moves quicker than he has in a long time and catches her just as she's about to pass out. Olivia puts her injured hand on his face, smearing it with blood. She unintelligibly says, "Bleeding? Wha-." She passes out and his heart jackhammers in his chest. He shouts her name. "Olivia! Goddamn it Olivia. Olivia!"_

_Jake brings Olivia to the emergency room where she receives 5 stitches and orders to rest her hand for the next few days. Olivia's visibly angry and they don't speak on the ride home. He wants to ask about the broken glass, but doesn't want to risk another tongue lashing. Not just yet. When Jake pulls up to her house, she strides briskly from the car to the front door and slams it shut. Jake, following closely behind her, knocks on the door, reigning in his irritation._

_"Liv, open the door."_

_"Breaking and entering. Stalking. Complicit kidnapping. Should I make a list before I call the police Jake?"_

_He angrily turns away from the front door and strides around the house to the back door. Using his key, he enters the house and marches stiffly into the living room._

_"Get the hell out of my house!"_

_"You were sitting in a pile of glass, cut open, and unconscious! What the fuck was I supposed to do Olivia? Leave a note saying I dropped by?"_

_He turns his back on her and tries to calm down. He looks down at the floor and speaks quietly and deliberately. "You were in trouble Liv. That much was clear. No one who mixes wine with sleeping pills then opens herself up is in a good place."_

_Olivia holds her injured hand and silently fumes. She wants to dispute every word he's said, but she can't argue against the truth._

_Jake walks over to her and looks into her eyes trying to convey all the worry he feels._

_"Liv, I'm sorry about last night. I had no right to invite myself in your house or your bed. You have every right to be angry. But that aside, you needed help. That's all I was trying to accomplish, I swear." The lie costs him, but he doesn't think now is the time to tell her that her nightmare of a father wants her watched. Right now she needs him to be a friend. He can do that much. For now._

_She bites her lip and looks at him with those helpless doe eyes and throws her hands up in exasperation. He has just enough time to think, '_Here it comes', _before she flays him._

_"Now what? You want me to go all damsel in distress with gratitude? Not happening. You want thanks for getting me to the hospital? Thank you. Now if that is all, I think you should leave because I cannot imagine what else you could possibly want."_

_Jake takes a beat then explodes._

_"Your gratitude isn't what I want Liv! I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you were ok. When I got here, after witnessing your Bell Jar moment, I wanted to take care of you. When you reached for me last night ..." Olivia's eyes widen and she quickly interjects, "There's no way in hell I reached for you," she says coldly. Jake ignores the barb and continues. "Whoever you were reaching for in your sleep Olivia, I didn't care. I just wanted to be there for you. That is what I wanted." He runs a hand through his hair and curses._

_"You know, it doesn't matter to me what you wanted Jake. You're my father's company man, a hired thug sent to keep me in line. Your wants don't rate consideration. Now, I think you know how to find the door."_

_Jake stiffens at the cutting rebuke. He knows he shouldn't push her. She's upset and in pain. But Christ,_ her mouth. _Furious, he takes a pill bottle out of his pocket and looks at it._

_"I wanted to make sure you had these since the doctor prescribed them. But, given your propensity to self-medicate like a frat house freshman, I think I'll hold onto them for now. Strange, but now all I really want is to do my job. If you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to do." Jake stalked past her to the front door and slammed it behind him. Surveillance detail or not, he needed a break._

He still remembers how fast he drove to the local boxing gym. He couldn't get into the gloves on fast enough. His poor sparring partner had to beg off because Jake kept relentlessly hammering him with punches. _I could have taken on Tyson that day and won._ He hadn't been that angry in a long time. Since then, his surveillance has been at a distance. He had the pharmacy deliver her pain medication (2 pills, no refills) and despite wanting to see her face, he kept to his plan to monitor her from afar. He doesn't know if it's his need to actually see her or his obligation to Command that makes him want to try for an on site check today. She moves around the house late into the night and a quick call to her doctor confirms she didn't go to her follow-up appointment. I have to check on her today. The chirp of the computer screen shakes him out of his reverie.

"Report Captain Ballard," Rowan says, looking more tired than usual. Jake guesses he's straining under the "Where's Olivia?" questions.

"She had a mishap, Sir."

Rowan closes his eyes and asks somberly, "Did she kill herself?"

"No, no. Nothing like that Sir. She broke a piece of china and cut her hand. She got five stitches and a torn tendon for her trouble, but she's ok."

Rowan doesn't exhibit any kind of relief upon hearing his daughter is still alive. _Cold_.

"When did this happen?"

"A couple of weeks ago Sir."

"What?", Rowan says deadly quiet. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

"Well, Sir, I've been running reconnaissance from a distance because she knows I'm here in Virginia."

Rowan says nothing for so long that Jake wonders if he's stroking out.

"Tell me Captain Ballard, exactly how did she discover you were tailing her?", Rowan says with restrained anger.

"Sir, she was passed out on the floor and bleeding. I had to take care -"

"You didn't have to do anything but call an ambulance and slip away. Yet you, _flyboy_, had to swoop in with a grand romantic gesture."

Jake takes the dress down silently. He's very close to losing this job and the wrong word will tip the balance. Rowan takes a deep breath and looks at the ceiling.

"Fine. We'll make lemonade. Since my daughter couldn't have unpacked with one hand, you will do it for her. More boxes will be delivered to her home tomorrow. See to it that you get her house in order. The sooner she sets down roots, the better the assimilation."

Unable to help himself, he tries to defend her. "Sir, she's struggling and I don't think that unpacking is what she needs. What she needs is emotional support right now."

"Son?"

'_Oh shit.'_

"Yes Sir?"

"Don't ever presume to tell me how to handle my daughter. Arrive at her home tomorrow morning to greet the truck. Help her unpack. That's all you're required to do at this time. Have I made myself clear?"

Jake swallows as the bullet he dodged races past his head.

"Yes Sir. Understood."

"Oh and Son? When I ask to be briefed on my daughter, I expect you to provide me with all details concerning her well being. You may think you're doing her a favor by holding back some information, but all you're really doing is handing me the hammer and nails for your coffin. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal Sir."

An hour later, Jake parks his car in Olivia's driveway and takes a deep breath. He's not sure she will even let him in, but he's got to try. He carries the box of chocolate croissants to the door and rings the doorbell. His fingers tap nervously against the pastry box while he waits for her to answer the door. He knocks again and starts to become concerned when she doesn't answer. When a full minute has passed, he makes his way to the back door and lets himself inside. He tries to quell the rising panic he feels.

"Olivia?"

He checks the lower level of the house and calls out again. The blanket and half empty glass of wine on the window seat tells him she's at least moving around.

"Olivia?"

He races upstairs in a full blow panic now. "Olivia! Answer me!"

He runs into her bedroom and its empty. Relief spreads through him. _'Thank Christ. She's not home.'_He's about to leave the bedroom when he hears water running in the bathroom. He's surprised that she would forget to turn off the faucet. Olivia is fastidious about her house habits and he knows she has a bathroom ritual that includes checking leaky faucets.

He opens the bathroom door and finds Olivia sitting on the shower floor underneath the water spray. Her legs are drawn to her chest and her forehead is touching her knees. Jake yanks open the shower door and turns off the ice cold spray. Olivia croaks softly, "Don't turn it off. So hot." Jake is shocked by the weakness of her voice. He pulls her up into his arms and tries to avoid looking at the wet chemise sticking to her skin. She's burning hot and so light in his arms. _Too light._

He brings her into the bedroom and sets her on the chaise. He wraps her in a blanket and bumps the thermostat to 78. _Got to get her temperature up. Her lips are blue for fuck sake._ Jake returns to Olivia's side with a towel and begins to brusquely dry her curling hair. Scared for her, he makes small talk to keep himself calm.

"You know Liv, I never knew your hair was curly. I like it this way. Makes you look like a little curly doll."

Olivia murmurs under the towel, "Get out Jake. I don't need you to take care of me."

"Is that right? Then why is this the second time I've had to prevent you from taking care of yourself? Huh? Riddle me that Batman."

He hears Olivia laugh under the towel and smiles at the small victory.

"Just a cold Jake. I think I can handle that."

"What if it isn't just a cold Olivia? Last time I checked, you were an .Esq, a .P.h.D. and not an M.D." Jakes takes the towel off and Olivia's hair falls to her shoulders in soft chestnut curls. He notes that she's shivering hard and has hidden her hand beneath the blanket.

"Now that we've completed your do girlfriend, let's see those nails honey," Jake lisps. Olivia wearily laughs again and pulls the blankets tighter around her.

"Jake, really, I appreciate you checking on me, but I'm good." Olivia doesn't realize that she's clutching the blanket with her injured hand and when she shifts, her bloody palm print stains the covers.

Jake snatches the blankets aside and inspects her palm. Setting his mouth in a firm line, he gets up and strides to her closet. He pulls down jogging pants, a sweatshirt and her sneakers. He yanks a tank top and panties from her drawer and brings it all to the chaise.

"Jake, please don't make me be rude. I've told you ..." Olivia stops midstream when Jake hauls her up by the arm, yanking the blankets off her. She cross her hands over her chest and stares disbelievingly as Jake holds out her panties.

"Put these on Olivia."

"You must be joking. Get out Jake. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."

Jake steps into her space and looks down at her with eyes that are all business. "I said put these on Olivia. We have to go. Now."

She sways away from him and wobbles down to the chaise. Suddenly the room is spinning. Jake begins undressing her like she's a child. She wants to scream at him, but she's fading out. Why is it so hot? Once she's fully dressed, Jake carries her through the house and to the car. Settling her in the backseat with a pillow, a blanket and orders to elevate her hand, he takes off for the hospital.

Three hours later they return to her house and encounter a dozen moving boxes in front of the garage. Olivia sighs and moves to awkwardly get out of the car with one hand. Jake gets out and helps her to her feet.

"I forgot to these were being delivered today," Olivia says as she moves slowly to the front door. She holds her throbbing hand to her chest as she walks.

"Forgot or succumbed to a raging infection in your hand and passed out in the shower?", Jake jokes as he gets her inside. Olivia chuckles and allows Jake to ensconce her on the couch with a blanket and a glass of water.

"Whatever the case, I've got to get those boxes out of the driveway. I'll take a nap and then move them later," she says sleepily as she snuggles down under the blanket.

Jake takes out her antibiotics and places them on the mantle. _So damn stubborn._ He's tempted to let her try; it would do her some good to see she's only human. He tucks the blanket around her. He'll make sure she takes her antibiotics when she wakes up. For now, he's going to get the boxes moved into the garage and then make her dinner.

"Thanks again Jake. Not cool stripping me down this morning, but thanks for taking me to the hospital," she murmurs as she nods off. "Please leave the key to the back door when you go," she yawns.

Jake shakes his head as he walks out to the driveway. There's no way in hell he's giving back the key. Besides, he couldn't. If Command wanted him to get into the house quickly or without her knowing, he needed to hold onto it. He opens the garage door and begins moving the boxes into the empty space. As he works, he plans out the dinner he'll make for Olivia when she wakes up. _Rigatoni bolognese; I can nail that sauce. Boston salad. Warm chocolate croissants. She needs some starch. _He checked her chart at the hospital and was shocked to see she'd lost nearly 12 pounds since leaving D.C. No wonder the sleeping pills knocked her off her feet so hard. She was run down and neglecting herself, straying into dangerous territory. Huck territory. He knows the signs.

He stacks the last box in the garage and closes the doors. He decides to head into town for groceries and wine, but not before checking on her. He goes back inside and pokes his head in the living room. Olivia is sound asleep on the couch, hand curled protectively against her chest. She's seems to be resting peacefully. Resisting the urge to kiss her, he leaves hoping she doesn't wake up before he can get back.

_Olivia buries her hands deep in his hair and rides him leisurely, circling her hips. His hands on her waist guide her up and down his cock and he's kissing her in that slow and deliberate way she loves. She hangs her head back and he trails kisses down her throat, moaning against her skin. The heat from his tongue feels amazing as he licks a path along her collar bone. Open to him and wet beyond belief, she rides him hard and he leans back and fucks his hips upward matching her rhythm. She's close, so close to coming and his cock is pushing her towards the precipice. He pulls her to his chest, buries himself deep inside her and kisses her hard whispering, "Squeeze me inside you. Do it. Squeeze your cunt around my cock."_

Olivia flexes the walls of her cunt and the act sends her over the edge. She comes hard, panting as she spasms once, twice and a third time. Gasping, she opens her eyes to see Jake standing over her holding a sauce covered spoon in his hand and a smile on his face. _She's beautiful when she comes._

"Uh, welcome back Liv. If I ask who that was about, will I like the answer?"

Olivia pulls the blanket over her head and dies as the heat of embarrassment spreads across her face._ I don't know who that was about and I don't want even want to venture a guess._ "Why are you here?", she groans. Jake pulls the blanket down and holds the spoon up. "Dinner Liv. Rigatoni bolognese. Although, since you've had dessert first, I think you may have ruined your dinner," he says laughing. "Come on Liv. Taste this and go clean up. Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes."

She tastes the sauce and raises her eyebrows at how good it is. She doesn't want to risk saying anything at all about her dream and just silently makes her way upstairs. As she fixes her hair in a ponytail and changes into white silk pajama pants, white jersey tank top and a dove grey lounging sweater, she briefly considers the dream. It was no more than a by product of the fever she tells herself. Not really a base need, but an involuntary reaction to her body's process of healing itself. _I'm not in the right state of mind to even want sex right now. My_ life _is in pieces and_ I've _been kidnapped by a sociopath who wants to play Dad and daughter. _Yeah, sex isn't on the agenda with all of that going on. She heads down into the kitchen drawn by the gorgeous scent of that sauce. Jake has music on and the kitchen is warm and scented with spices. _Smells wonderful_. She takes a seat at the island bar and smiles as Jake stirs his sauce.

"Jacob Martha Stewart Ballard. Who knew?", she says sarcastically, nibbling on a lettuce leaf. Jake laughs and brings over plates and forks, flushed with the warmth of the kitchen and her attention. "Ok, I admit it, I can cook. I have a gift for making Italian food. Deal with it," he laughs as he forks Rigatoni onto her plate. "Given your love of popcorn for dinner, I am guessing this is way over your usual palate level so get ready to have your mind blown." Olivia smiles and has to admit it looks amazing. "Ok, ok it does smell really good. But, Gettysburger it isn't and you know that's the height of gourmet dining," she teases and then trails away. Her first encounter with Gettysburger brings back memories she'd rather not entertain.

Sensing that she was straying into "shut down" mode, Jake pulls out the save of the day. "Well, I also have the perfect pairing for my three star Rigatoni. Nosotros, 2007", he says as he presents the bottle with a flourish. Olivia smiles and plays nice since he bought one of her favorite Argentinean wines. And because his heather grey T-shirt pulls tight in places that demand attention. _Not on the agenda remember?_ Eat Olivia and try to stay focused. "Well done Jake. This Rigatoni might be saved yet," she says as she takes a bite. "Oh my God. Who _are_ you?", she moans around a mouthful of food. She takes another bite and is surprised that she feels hungry. Quieted by her ravenous eating, she halts all conversation. He's surprised to see her finish her salad and pasta.

"Guess I don't have to ask if you liked it huh?", he asks when she sets her fork down. "Jake, I don't have the words to tell you how wonderfully that was prepared. You really do have a gift for this. I think I'm going to be full for a week", she laughs. She's not ready to admit it out loud, but she's glad he's here. The silence in the house has been rattling her nerves. "If it left you speechless, which it did, then I've done well," Jake says as he smiles. She steps down from the bar stool and stumbles as a wave of dizziness hits her. Jake grabs her by the upper arms and steadies her. "Alright, to bed with you. You're still not ready to be up and around. Besides, you have to take your antibiotics." Olivia, feeling feverish and woozy, doesn't protest when he guides her upstairs and gets her into bed.

Jake heads back down to the kitchen and clears up the dinner dishes. He knows that he should leave now. She's eaten, been restitched and is in bed. Other than changing her bandage, she's fine. So why can't he just walk out the door? He plates a chocolate croissant, grabs the antibiotics and goes back upstairs.

"Olivia, it's time to change your bandage. And since you finished your dinner, I brought you a treat."

Jake finds Olivia sitting on the side of the bed, wrestling with her bandage. She's unwound most of it, but can't quite get the rest. Jake sets the dessert and pills on the side table and kneels in front of her. "Here, let me do that," he says reaching for her hand. Olivia angrily jerks back glaring at him. "I can handle this Jake. Just ... just go home." She hates feeling this vulnerable and weak. It scares her that she has to rely on someone. She doesn't know how to do that. _I used to run a company. Now I can't change my own goddamn bandage? _Jake takes a breath and reaches for her hand again. "Liv, it'll be tough to do this one handed. Let me help you."

Olivia stands up suddenly and walks slowly towards the door, unsteady on her feet. Jake makes a noise of exasperation and walks after her. He picks her up bodily and drags her back to bed as she protests. "What the hell are you doing?!", she shouts. Pulling her in front of him, he sits on the bed against the headboard and yanks her between his legs, her back to his chest. Olivia struggles feebly and Jake waits her out.

"What's your problem Jake? Get off me and get out. Right now," she grits out between her teeth. Her struggles weaken as her energy runs out. Slightly out of breath and impotent with anger, she stops moving. Jake holds her by the wrists and leans forward to speak softly, "Liv, I'm going to change your bandage. It's as simple as that. Let me do this then I can go. Agreed?" Olivia is silent, but her rigid frame speaks clearly. She doesn't want him to touch her. "I need an acknowledgement Liv. Will you let me change this bandage?", he asks again. Olivia stiffly nods her assent and Jake lets go of one hand.

He curses as he dodges the swift slap she throws over her shoulder. He grabs both of Olivia's wrists in one hand and angrily pulls her against his chest. "Fine. That's how we'll do it then," he says as he picks up the spray-on antiseptic. "I was going to coax you through this step, but since you'd rather chop my head off, I won't baby you through the process." Jake douses her hand with the antiseptic and holds her still as the sting of it causes her to wriggle in earnest. "You are such an asshole," she seethes. He's doing his level best not to be turned on by her close proximity, but her ass is making it difficult. Every wriggle sends a shock wave through his groin. Not surprisingly, he hardens against her and she feels the full length of him pressed against her behind. She stills so suddenly, he thinks she's passed out.

Holding her wrists out he leans forward pressing his erection between her cheeks and murmurs seductively, "What did you expect Liv? You're rubbing your ass all over me and struggling when I want you to be a good girl and take it." He grazes his lips down her neck when he bends forward to put a gauze pad in her palm. Olivia forgets her stinging hand and forces herself not react to his touch. She tugs her at her wrists trapped in his hand. "I wouldn't be struggling if you'd let go of my hands Jake."

"So you can take another swing at me? Absolutely not. Besides, if you'd just do what I tell, when I tell you, we wouldn't be in this position with this between us," he says as he presses cock against her for emphasis. Olivia sucks in a sharp breath and wriggles even harder trying to pull away. He groans as her movements create a delicious friction. "On second thought Liv, move all you like." She freezes not willing to give him any more ammunition.

Jake holds her wrists out and tells himself it's the wriggling and not his hold on her wrists that's turning him on. _Easy buddy._ Jake wraps her hand and secures the bandage. "There, all done. Unless you want me to clean it again. That antiseptic was fun."

Seething, Olivia huffs out, "You can let me go now Jake." He ignores her and grabs the antibiotics. "Not quite. It's pill time. You can take these or I can force them down your throat. Your choice Liv," he says, his voice husky from being turned on. He wants to enjoy restraining her a bit longer. Feed the beast a little. _Good grief Jake. Try not to come if she fights you._ Olivia opens her mouth and Jake pops two pills in. He lets her sip from the glass and nearly groans when a drop of water slips down her chin. Setting the water down, he turns her head and kisses the moisture off her skin. He lets a soft 'mmmm' slip out as he tightens his hold on her wrists and steals one more kiss. The beast has been fed and then some. He tries not to think about how much he's enjoying this.

He pulls back and frantically thinks of a something that will allow him to hold her a bit longer. "Liv, why do you make taking care of you so hard? You take care of perfect strangers with dedication. What I don't understand is how you can neglect yourself. Especially now," he says quietly. He releases her wrists and lowers her hands into her lap.

"Did he tell you to come here?", she asks softly. He takes her uninjured hand and strokes his thumb across the back of it. He's almost certain she's talking about the President, but decides to play dumb. "Your Father asked me to watch out for you until you're on your feet. He cares Liv." A lie, but a necessary one. It'd destroy her to know that one more person has let her down. "I'm not here to hurt you Liv", he murmurs. Olivia leans back against his chest and his heart leaps as her warmth fills him with hope. "I know you wouldn't deliberately hurt me Jake. You've helped me time and again the last few weeks and if I haven't said it before, thank you. I'm ... I'm a little turned around, but I don't want to be ungrateful. You've been a really good friend." She sighs sadly and allows Jake to slip his arm around her waist.

He knows that at any minute she's going to ask him to leave. He knows that. But right now it feels so good to have her in his arms. He used to fantasize about holding her when he was in the hole. He'd imagine them in bed spooned together and whispering loving words. It was those thoughts that kept him from going insane. Even now he's not certain that this isn't a dream.

He whispers softly in her ear as she relaxes even further in his arms, "There isn't much I wouldn't do for you Liv. What I won't do is let you give up on yourself. So let me help you when I can." Olivia murmurs something unintelligible and lets out a soft snore. Jake smiles and wonders if he can slip away without waking her. Olivia turns in his arms and lays her head on his chest. She nestles down into him and all the plans he made for leaving go out the window. He can't imagine being anywhere else.

He hits the beside light and wraps her up in his arms. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhales her scent and is filled with contentment. He hadn't realized how much he needed this ... how much he need to be near her. As he falls asleep, he wonders if she'll yell at him in the morning.

The brightening room is quiet except for their deep breathing. Entwined, they've moved to the center of the bed as if its edges were lined with barbed wire. Olivia licks her lips and sighs softly with pleasure. _Oh that's good. So good. _He knows they're sensitive. That's why he starts there, heating her up nice and slow. Olivia pushes her breast up and is rewarded with increased pressure from the fingers rolling her nipple. _Yeah, pinch it harder, oh love that._ She slowly opens her eyes to the light. She's on her back and Jake's body is half covering hers. He's got a hand on her breast and is manipulating her nipple while sound asleep. He palms her breast, squeezing it roughly before returning his fingers to her nipple. He pulls on the taut flesh and then pinches it hard. She gasps as unadulterated heat pools between her legs. She knows that she should stop him, but his hands on her feel so good. When Jake's hand begins to crawl under her tank, she puts a stop to it.

"Jake. Jake!"

He jerks awake and stares at her confused, then looks at his hand shoved halfway up her top. He has the good grace to look embarrassed. He sheepishly apologizes. "Sorry Liv. That was purely an auto-reflex. Or it's the company I've been keeping. Your dreams are catching I think," he says with a wicked smile.

"Right. Auto-reflex", she says flushed and in a hurry to put some distance between them. "Would you mind getting off me?" He was sexily rumpled and that smile of his was causing her palpitations. Slow to move, he reluctantly lifts off her and drags his fingers across the naked skin of stomach before getting up. _Take a breath Olivia. He's not that irresistible. Well, not unless he touches me like that again then I'm a puddle of Pope._

Olivia sits up, cautiously testing her balance. She feels better today and wants to move around a bit. Jake hands her a glass of water. He look at her questioningly. "Feeling better?" Olivia nods. "Yeah, better than yesterday. Want some coffee?"

He shifts uncomfortably as his erection presses tightly against his lower stomach. _Whatever I was doing to her has me as hard as a 18 year old probie_. He crosses his hands in front of his zipper and nods. "That sounds good Liv, but let me make it." Olivia shakes her head. "No, I think I can handle coffee today. If I get stuck, I'll give a shout." She smiles knowingly as he angles his hips away from her. "When you're uh ... more settled, I'll make you some toast too." Jake laughs and looks down, not able to meet her eyes as she walks past him. _Christ, I've got to get a better handle on this attraction. It's making me stupid._ In the kitchen, Olivia gets the coffee percolating and pops two pieces of french bread with ham and cheese in the oven. While she waits, she decides not to put off the step that she's been dreading. She calls her offices in D.C. and Huck answers the phone.

"Huck, it's -"

"Where are you? The reporters are here everyday and Secret Service calls twice a day asking if we've heard from you. Your father called and said that you were going to shut things down. What's going on Liv?"

Olivia sighs softly and is happy to see that Huck hasn't written her off.

"I'm moving on Huck. Where I choose to do that isn't important. But, I do need to square away some loose ends. I need your help with that."

"You need my help running away from your family here?"

Olivia closes her eyes and blinks back tears. "I need help starting over and I can't do that until I've put my life in D.C. to rest. So will you help me? For the last time?"

She hears Huck breathing quietly and knows she's asking a lot. What she's really asking him to do is to let the one stable thing in his life walk away. She's never felt as selfish as she does now.

"What do you need Liv?"

Grateful tears stream from her eyes. Taking a shuddery breath, she says, "Get the client directory and start making calls. Tell them that effective today Pope and Associates has closed its practice. Refer those clients with active investigations to Heller Orin. They're good and have a staff that can accommodate the influx of new business. Have Abby send letters to each of our inactive clients telling them it was our pleasure to have served them, but Pope and Associates must discontinue its business. Tell them the decision to close was voluntary and that we hope they never need our kind of services again."

Huck has been silent during her instructions and now asks the questions she's been dreading.

"What do you want me to tell the rest of the team? What about Secret Service?"

Olivia turns to see Jake standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a look of sympathy on his face. She takes a breath and says, "Tell the guys I know they'll be fine. Tell them there isn't anything they can't do and I send my love. Tell them I hope that they'll forgive me." You coward. She starts to cry and Jake moves to stand behind her. He puts his hands on her shoulders as she finishes.

"And Secret Service? They'll want to know where you are."

"Tell them nothing. Secret Service doesn't need to know where I am. I don't work for him."

"I'll take care of it. I'm just glad to know you're alive and not in a hole somewhere." She doesn't miss Huck's subtle hint. He knows her father has her, but she doesn't take the bait. Once again she's awed by how much Huck sees into her.

"Huck. Huck, do you think Abby and the guys will forgive me?"

"Yeah, they'll forgive you Liv. I know that."

"How do you know that Huck?"

"Because I've already forgiven you."

Olivia cries quietly and tremulously whispers, "Thank you Huck. I've never had a better friend."

"I'll be in touch when everything's shut down. Take care of yourself Olivia."

"You too Huck. And thanks again."

Olivia hangs up and with her head bowed whispers, "So that's done." Jake pulls her into his arms. He kisses her cheek and says, "Hard part is done. It will get easier Liv. Trust me it does." He kisses her temple and his heart breaks a little when she tries to hold back a sob. He's got to pull her up or they're back to sleepless nights.

"Now what's that in the oven? I'm surprised you didn't hear my stomach rumble from upstairs."

Olivia wipes her face and takes a deep breath. "That's croque monsieur so be prepared to have your mind blown." She steps out of his arms and to the oven. He sits while she plates the buttery deliciousness and brings him a cup of coffee. Taking a bite Jake comically rolls his eyes and moans. "For someone who never used her kitchen, this is freaking fantastic." Olivia smiles and takes a bite of her breakfast. "Yeah, yeah. I do remember some of my better tricks from college." They laugh easily together and Olivia realizes that she's finds comfort in his company. After that phone call, she was prepared to go back to bed and never get up again. Right now, she needs Jake to keep her thoughts diverted from the fact that she just severed ties to the life she's known for the last four years.

Jake finishes his breakfast and takes a sip of coffee before he stands. "Liv, there's something I have to do. But, I'll be back in about 3 hours and I'll help you get started with the unpacking. Ok?", he says as he puts on his jacket.

Olivia pushes away the unease she begins to feel at being left alone. What is that? Since when do I not like my solitude? When do I EVER go all clingy? "Jake, you don't need to come back here. I'll unpack the stuff in the house on my own. I think you have better things to do besides hanging around me", she bluffs as she slowly loads the dishwasher. Jake notes the bluster doesn't quite cover her discomfort. He walks over and lifts her up onto the counter, and stands between her legs.

"Yeah that's true. I hate hanging around a beautiful, smart lady who's sexy as hell. Don't know what's wrong with me," he says with fake outrage. Olivia laughs and not for the first time notes Jake's sense of humor is easy and appealing. He's all light and air; uncomplicated and that is a welcome relief.

"Jake, go do what you have to do. If you come back, maybe we can go for a walk. And if you behave, I'll make you dinner as a thank you for getting the boxes into the garage. Deal?", she asks as he pulls her forward so he's pressed against the heat between her legs. It is such a familiar and intimate move that she loses her ability to speak.

"Deal. Hey, if I said I wasn't really sorry about how we woke up this morning would you be upset with me?", he asks as he runs his hands up and down her thighs. Olivia puts her hands on his chest and pushes against him lightly. "Between the kisses you stole last night and the liberties you took this morning I have a lot to be upset about. Right now I can't think of a reason to dress you down about it," she says as she uselessly tries to put some space between them. Jake grabs her hands and lowers them to her lap. "Liv, I know you have a lot on your plate. I do. But, you need to let in a bit of air. Suffocating what you feel naturally isn't healthy," he says softly. _I am a hypocrite of the highest order._

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear he lifts her down from the counter and kisses her gently. "Just think about what I've said. You can make this new start work. It can be a life you've always wanted." He gives her shoulders a little shake and smiles down at her. "Ok, marching orders young lady. Rest and hydration until I get back. There's an impossibly weighty book on your beside table that doesn't look half read. Try making a dent between naps ok?"

Olivia nods silently and waves him away with a smile. Jake heads to the door and smiles at her over his shoulder. Her heart skips a beat. _Oh my, look at that smile._ "Oh and Liv, try not to create a new reason for us to go back to the hospital. That doctor thinks I'm some sort of medical groupie."

Olivia laughs as Jake shuts the door. She's ready to start her day and feels better about it now that she knows Jake is coming back. Heading upstairs for a shower, she wonders if ordering Thai food counts as cooking.


	5. Chapter 4 - Part 1 - There's A Reason

**Author's Note: Hello all. Just wanted to express gratitude for the honest interest in this story. I appreciate the advice and support as well as the genuine critiques of my work. Keep 'em coming and don't hold back. I won't learn or grow as a writer otherwise. **

**This chapter will be told in two parts in order to facilitate the plot progression and development of relationships between characters. **

**For those who've enjoyed the story thus far, I hope you continue to do so. If you've found the direction of the story different than what you expected, maybe there's a story in my future that will bring you back for another round. Either way, this story isn't complete and the relationships and interactions we're seeing now do not necessary foretell how or where the story will end. Some of the best roads have twists and turns. I kind of like it that way. :)**

Chapter 4 - Part 1

June 2011

Fitz has a second shot of scotch before heading to the briefing room. He wearily sighs as he goes through the "drunk before noon" routine. He pops several mints, puts in eye drops, lines up the espresso and straightens his tie.

He's dreading the fundraiser tonight. Absolutely dreading it. He knows it's important now more than ever to show his face at these events. But, he always seems to drink a little too much and excuses himself too early to go brood in the Oval Office. The campaign staffers are starting to watch him closely. He's got to pull out of this deep dive or it's over. _Maybe I want it to be over._

He takes a deep pull from the espresso cup and holds his head back as the burning liquid races down his chest. He's been making it a habit to wake himself up with pain. It seems that's the only thing he can feel these days. Pain. It's what drives him forward.

He is on day eight of not sleeping and his need for Olivia has intensified to a point of physical distress. His body literally aches with the need to see her. _Can't believe how much this hurts. I've lost her before, but this is different. This feels permanent._ The little sleep he does have is filled with disturbing dreams that drive him awake. One dream that occurs most often is a nightmare where Olivia is on a bed, naked and making love to a faceless stranger. He can see them writhing together and Olivia is moaning his name. The faceless stranger begins to roughly fuck her, choking her. Olivia claws at the man's back screaming for him. Just as he's about to launch himself at the faceless man, Olivia goes limp on the bed and he screams. He shouts her name in a blind panic and tries to reach the bed with limbs that are slow and nearly inoperable. He usually bolts upright at this point with an erection like a spike, shouting her name. It was this dream that was finally the last straw for Mellie. After the third time he woke up shouting for Olivia, she banned him from the Presidential bedroom. He didn't protest; it was a relief not to share a bed with her any more. _That_ charade was at least over.

He checks his schedule for the day and is glad that it's full. He's no longer struggling to keep up with the campaigning. He welcomes the busy work ahead. It's the nights that are hard. It's even worse when he's alone; his thoughts turn what he's done to her every time he has a solitary moment. He doesn't think he'll ever have a day when he doesn't think about her. He's become accustomed to having her at the very edge of his thoughts always. Every decision he makes is with her in mind. He's instructed his team to review his campaign tactics from the last election in an effort to have them ethereally guided by Olivia. _Pitiful. I'm keeping her presence alive by making my staff vicariously reenact her every step._

He gives himself a shake and downs the rest of the espresso. Resigned to another long day, he opens the side door to the briefing room and walks into an angry Jake Ballard who grabs him by the lapels and shoves him back into his office. "Jake?! What are you doing here?", he chokes out, taken off guard. Jake closes the door quietly and looks at him with the coldest eyes he's seen since Mellie.

"Shut up Fitz. Just listen."

Fitz glares at him, angry and confused. "Listen to what? How you were insubordinate and controverted a direct order to watch her only? You don't get to dictate what I need to hear Jake. One thing, if you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll have you in Guantanamo before the end of the day." Jake ignores the threat. He's never been as pissed as he is now.

"She's done Fitz. Olivia reached a limit that was in the neighborhood of self-destruction. I know you only care about yourself, especially where she's concerned, but given what I've seen, you have to call off the Secret Service now or she'll go over the cliff." Fitz stills as the throbbing pulse of her name echoes with his heartbeat ... Olivia, Olivia, Olivia.

"Where?" he wheezes out. The oxygen in the room is suddenly too thin to breathe.

"Christ you're thick. Did you hear me? You are the poison that's killing her. I can't believe you would think I'd lead you to her door after what you put her through. Fuck you."

Fitz throws the punch before he realizes he's doing it. He misses and stumbles to his desk, gripping it with shaking hands. The scotch has slowed him down and his anger isn't helping.

"Tell me where she is Jake. Don't make this official White House business."

Jake doesn't quail at Fitz's threat. His protection level of Olivia is at a 10 and he's not afraid of this shell of a man.

"Fitz listen to me. I get it. She's amazing. There isn't anyone like her. If I've ..."

Outraged, Fitz loses his temper. "I don't need you to tell me about Olivia! I know her in way you can't imagine. One night with her doesn't make you an expert Captain."

"Really? Would you have guessed that she'd run away? Or that she'd try to hurt herself?" He's not sorry about skewing the truth. Fitz doesn't deserve her truth. Not after what he's done.

Fitz pales and the anger he feels fades to horror.

"She what? Is she ok? Is she hurt?", Fitz asks frantically. Real fear enters the equation; he's afraid the person he lives for doesn't want to live at all.

"Fitz, this life you've constructed with her doesn't work. It's not living. She lost her integrity when your affair went public. It was too much for her. Just let her go."

Fitz grabs Jake by the arm and slams him face first against the wall hiking his wrist up behind his back. He grinds is forearm against Jake's neck and gauges the pressure per inch, careful to keep blood flow.

"I am not going to ask you again. Tell me now or I will fucking end you. Is she ok?!"

"She's fine! She's fine! There was a bad moment, but she's ok Fitz."

His hands weakened by relief, Fitz lets him go and collapses against his desk. "Tell me where she is Jake and I'll let you leave without being court marshaled."

"B-613 isn't a branch of government you can touch Fitz. You're not thinking and its that rashness that got you here in the first place. You leaked her name to the press. Don't bother denying it. You jeopardized your presidency and your relationship with Olivia because you gambled with her heart and her career. You lost her. That was all you. What did our C.O. used to say? "The greatest general is he who makes the fewest mistakes." You, my friend, have made more mistakes with her than she can count."

Fitz pinches the bridge of his nose and realizes Jake is right. He did all of those things, there's no denying it. He ruined the life of the woman he loves because he couldn't let her go. His actions weren't motivated by logic, this much was true. However, his actions were guided by one incentive since the day he met her. Living his life with Olivia no matter the cost. The truth of what he's done is familiar ground he's covered many times in the last few weeks, but it stings to hear it coming from Jake.

"Jake, listen, I'm sorry. The strain of the last month has been monumental. It's a shock to hear Olivia isn't doing well. I'm worried about her. I ... I don't do well when she's unwell."

"Apology accepted Mr. President. I understand. Rest assured that while she's not her old self yet, she's on her way."

Fitz nods curtly, feeling helpless and shut out. He picks up his phone and dials Tom's direct number. "Tom? Cease surveillance on Dove immediately. Yes, I said Dove. I understand the order and confirm it. No, the subject hasn't reemerged. Just stop all monitoring on Dove!" He slams the phone down and turns back to Jake holding his hands up. "Done. They won't follow up on her and they'll stop calling her offices." If Jake was telling the truth, he had to back off now or he'd hurt her in a way he couldn't take back. To know that she'd hurt herself was more than he could bear. He needs her, but not enough to push her to self destruct. Just hold on baby. He looks at the man who's allowed to be near her and his mixed feelings of envy and gratitude war with each other fighting for supremacy inside him. As much as he hates it, Jake is the only one he can trust to help the most important person in his life. "Believe it or not Jake, I do care about her. Thank you for trying to protect her," he says resigned to being marginalized for now.

Jake, wary of how easily Fitz has acquiesced, nods slowly and says, "I know you care for Olivia Mr. President. I'm beginning to learn just how easy that is." Fitz steps around his desk to hide his clenched fists as the jagged edges of his jealousy tears through him.

Jake motions to the door. "If we're on the same page now, I have to go Mr. President. I'm sorry about before. I hope you understand that I'm here for a friend."

Fitz nods stiffly. "Understood. Just help her until she's ready to come back Jake. She has friends here too and we're ready to be there for her if she needs us."

"Sir, I don't think you understand. She's not coming ba-"

Fitz cuts him off quickly, unable to even entertain the idea, "You don't know her the way I do Jake. She'll come back. I appreciate you helping her now, but I know Olivia is stronger than all this. I'll give her space. But, I'm not giving up on her." He gives Jake a level look and says, "That's something you should know."

Not wanting lose the small gains he's made with Fitz, Jake doesn't argue. _I'd be in denial too._

"Jake, while you're here I have a favor to ask. It's kind of official business and I hope you can help," Fitz says as he picks up an envelope and hands it to Jake.

"If I can Sir. What is this?"

"An invitation. I have a fundraiser tonight. Navy sponsored and all the guys from our company will be there. I need a familiar face to loosen the wallets of some of the ex-military personnel. You wouldn't believe how wealthy some of them are."

Jake laughs and says, "Most of them have my father to thank for that. Weapons manufacturing is a lucrative business."

"Funny you should mention him, because your father will be there tonight. Think you could do a tag team with him? Help stuff the coffers for me?"

Jake stiffens at they thought of working with his father in any capacity. "Uh, Mr. President I don't think I'm the person you want on a tag team with my father. We don't really see eye to eye to put it mildly."

"Jake I wouldn't ask, but I really need another friendly face in the crowd. You fit the bill as ex-Navy and a government operative. It would only be for a couple of hours. Would you mind?"

Fitz doesn't want Jake to run back to wherever he has Olivia just yet. He's guessing she doesn't know Jake came here on her behalf and she'd be furious if she knew.

"Mr. President, I wouldn't mind. It's just I don't have the get up for a fundraiser."

"Not a problem. Shelly will make sure you have a tux in under an hour. We're about the same size so it shouldn't be a problem. You can use one of the guest rooms to change. Shelly will show you where."

Hating the idea of making Olivia wait, Jake decides it might be best to bank a little trust with the President. Time will tell if Fitz has really pulled the Secret Service off her and Jake wants to leave on good terms. He also wants to gauge how far Fitz will go to have Olivia back in his life.

Fitz leaves Jake at Shelly's desk and heads to his meeting. He's gotten his anger under control now that he knows Olivia is alright. He's still seething over the easy familiarity Jake has when talking about her. Jake seems intent on building a wall around Olivia and keeping everyone out. He doesn't know her and he certainly doesn't know what she needs. _The challenge of Washington is in her blood, same as mine. I have always been in lockstep with her heart and there isn't anything she wants more than a life with me._ Jake is out of his depth in this matter and Fitz does not intend to lose her to him or anyone. Period.

Jakes stands in the East Wing residence and dials Olivia's home. She picks up after a few rings and sounds groggy with sleep.

"What?", she says softly.

"Liv, it's me, Jake."

"Oh hey Jake. I was taking a nap. I'm still so punked out."

"Your system took a knock and sleep is your body's way of healing itself. Let it do what it wants."

"Oookay Dr. Ballard. Last time I checked, you were an Esq., an MBA, a DBA and a double E.E., but I must have missed the M.D."

Jake laughs and says, "Aren't you Dr. Pope? P.h.D.'s usually earn that honor." He smiles when she giggles, enjoying the easy and open Olivia. "So, Liv. Doing a little checking on me huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself Ballard. There isn't much effort required to determine someone's educational history. "

"Ahh, but the fact that you wanted to check is pretty damn flattering. That's a win in my twisted little handbook."

Olivia laughs softly and suddenly can't wait to see him.

"We can discuss the merits of online stalking later. Question, do you like Thai?"

"Ah, that's why I'm calling. I might be a little later than I expected. Think you can stay out of trouble for another few of hours?"

Disappointed and hating herself for it, she says, "I don't need a sitter and you don't have to check in with me Jake. I'm not the little woman."

The coolness of her tone signals a pullback and he's kicking himself for agreeing to help Fitz. He can't afford to lose ground with her.

"Olivia, I'm not trying to take "boyfriend" liberties here, I'm just following an ingrained pattern of behavior that's natural to me and thousands of other Naval graduates. If plans change, we inform all parties. SOP, Liv."

"Jake, look, I've got to go. I have a few things that I need to do around here. If you'll excuse me ..."

"Olivia?", he says quietly with an icy calm.

Exasperated by her irrational disheartenment, she loses her patience.

"What? What do you want Jake?"

"I want you to calm down. I want you to go back to sleep until I get there. I want this done without another word and I want it done now. Hang ... up ... the phone."

Stunned by his tone, Olivia considers blasting him. She tells herself that he needs a reminder of what she's capable of, but her inner Olivia hustles to do as asked. Instead of reaming him, she finds herself hanging up the phone without speaking.

Jake hears the soft click of the phone and it is only the dial tone that breaks him out of his shock.

_Oh Christ what am I doing?_

Jake takes a long shuddering breath and wills his heart to slow down. He's turned on and shaken by the exchange, unnerved that he let that side of himself slip forward with Olivia. He knows it's a natural reaction to her resistance. She's strong, no doubt there. But there is an undercurrent running just beneath her surface. A softness that coos to his dominant tendencies, constantly rattling him. He keeps getting tantalizing glimpses of her need to yield especially when she's emotionally compromised or happy or aroused. It's alluring on so many levels that it makes him a little drunk with the need to control her. Yet, his own history with that life, those activities, hasn't brought him any peace. The defect,_ oh yes, it's a defect,_ is the reason he ended up in B-613 in the first place. Their tests disclosed something in him that made him a perfect candidate for their special tasks. He can't afford for one iota of that world to touch what he thinks is growing between he and Olivia. He can't lose anything else to this thing inside him. Not again.

There's a knock and he groans softly as he walks to the door. His erection is so hard it literally makes movement painful. He holds a book in front his zipper when he accepts the tux from Shelly. I've got to take care of this soon. Otherwise I'll do more than cop a feel with her the next time.

Jake glances at the clock and realizes he has about 2 hours to get ready. He calls Command to give his briefing.

"Report Captain Ballard."

"Sir, she's resting at home for the moment. It's unlikely that she'll be up and around for the rest of the evening."

"Good. Is she unpacked?"

"Not quite Sir, but we're working on it."

"Exactly how are you working on her unpacking if you're in the East Wing of the White House as we speak Captain?"

_Shit_.

"Sir, I had some business to attend to at the President's request. I plan on returning to Virginia this evening."

"Captain, I find myself issuing more warnings to you than I like. If you're facilitating communications between my daughter and that meat puppet ..."

Jake interrupts quickly, "No Sir, absolutely not. The President asked me to assist him with a Navy sponsored fundraiser. That's all."

"If you believe Grant needs your help scrambling for campaign funds, you have no business being in my organization."

"Sir, I am well aware the President hopes I'll give away Olivia's location, but trust me, it will not happen. I think you know my interest in this assignment isn't all business."

Pleased, Rowan hangs up without another word.

Feeling like he's betrayed her all over again, he dresses quickly and begins mentally preparing himself for the fundraiser. He was never built for politics and Fitz's request is a blatant delaying tactic. _If I can get through tonight, I will have bought her freedom from the Secret Service and some time away from Fitz. This is worth it._

In reception room, Fitz makes a circuit eyeing the crowd for Jake. For the first time in weeks, he's not drinking at a function. The constant ringing of the alarm bell inside him is blissfully silent for the first time in weeks. She's ok. She's safe. He can breathe. If he could just see her. Even if it's just from a distance, a glimpse would be enough to sate him for a while. He shakes himself from that path of dangerous thoughts. I've got to give her the space she needs. Otherwise I'm driving her away instead of bringing her in. Fitz pulls himself from his thoughts and gets back to the task at hand. Getting the necessary monies to win the election so he can get her back.

Jake walks into the reception room and adjusts his tie nervously. The room is abuzz and he immediately recognizes several faces, many of them friends. For the next hour, he engages in reminiscing and making introductions, all the while the thrumming hum of his arousal sounds low and steady in his ears. He can't wait to see her. A part of him just wants to be in her presence, but that deeper self, the animal self wants to see whether she complied with his instructions. That deeper self was pacing and vibrating with simmering need. He wanted her under his hands.

He manages to avoid his father but for one brief encounter. As usual, the exchange is stiff and full of biting comments. They part much the same as they always have. Angry and resentful. _Some things never change with him. If I had a nickel for every time he wanted to insert himself in my life I would be a rich man_.

Photographers are peppered throughout the hall, taking pictures for various news outlets. Fitz, talking with a controversial Naval supplier, sees Jake walking toward the exit. He grabs his arm as he passes and introduces him. As they talk, he signals a photographer to take a picture. Jake attempts to move away, but Fitz digs his hand into Jake's arm and forces him into the shot.

Jake smiles at the camera and whispers to Fitz, "You sonofabitch. She'll never see the pictures."

Fitz claps a hand on Jakes shoulder, and leans into him smiling jovially, "She has over 18 online news outlets bookmarked on her computer. She starts everyday with a cup of Buseco coffee, two spoonfuls of creamer, Splenda and a bowl of mixed berries. She eats her breakfast and drinks her coffee while meticulously going through each and every one of those website. Given the fact that I've just been photographed looking chummy with the Lee Iacocca of weapons supplies, I guarantee this picture will be headlined on the homepage of each of those websites. Oh yeah, she'll see it."

When the photographer is done, Jake shrugs off Fitz's hand and glares at him. "You were always willing to stoop to low rent tactics to get what you wanted Mr. President. Predictable maneuvering to the bitter end." Fitz's mouth hardens as he steps closer. "Just keeping things open and honest Captain. Of course, you were going to tell her you were here right Jake? You see, I have a feeling that what you tell Olivia and what is actually the truth are two very different things. I'm just doing my small part to keep you honest." The photographer asks for a photo of Jake and the President alone and Fitz happily obliges and smiles as he says, "My resources are nearly unlimited and you don't have the the defenses necessary to keep me out. As I said, I'll give her space. That doesn't mean I'll let you spin whatever yarn you like when you get back to her."

Furious, Jake stands his ground and smiles coldly at Fitz. "Sure, you've got infinite resources; every boy king likes his toys. However none of those resources allowed you to keep her and you sure as hell don't have her now. I do."

They stare each other down until Quentin comes over to introduce a possible contributor. Jake stalks away only to run into his father who ropes him into a discussion about ammunitions with a weapons pundit.

Much later than Jake liked, the reception ends. Fitz notes Jake slipping out the exit and is tempted to have Tom follow him. He discards the plan since alerting Jake to the presence of the Secret Service may make him tell Olivia that she's still being followed. He decides to back off for now.

About 2 hours later, Jake lets himself in Olivia's house and stands in her kitchen listening to the nighttime creaks and groans of the settling structure. He's glad to be back. He shouldn't have risked the trip to D.C., but he had to do something about the Secret Service. He'd watched her heart literally splinter this morning and it rashly drove him to protect her. The accusations he made earlier about Fitz's unthinking behavior ring hollow now. Trapped by his own impulsivity, he now has to explain why he attended a fundraiser at the White House and appeared so chummy with Fitz. _What a fucking bastard you are Fitz_. At least he knows Fitz will go to any lengths to get Olivia back. No surprises there.

He opens the fridge for some water and sees takeout Thai on the shelves. He shakes his head and is sorry that he missed dinner with her. The deeper self, the base animal self, is pissed that he didn't have a chance to take a reading of how she fared after he'd tasked her. Maybe the delay was good thing. If I'd been here minutes after that exchange, things might have gone south fairly quickly.

He makes his way up to her bedroom and finds her asleep on her side, wearing silky navy pajama pants and a powder blue jersey tank top. _Can't believe she's asleep. She actually did what I told her to do. Unreal how good that feels._ She has her injured hand tucked under her pillow and the book she'd been reading is on the bedside table with a book mark placed about two thirds into its pages. He smiles and thrills at how much these small acquiescences make him soar. Jake stands over her taking in her soft breathing and small frame. He toes off his shoes and sits down next to her. The lone lamp in the room gives off a gentle glow and the light outlines her soft body under the silky clothing. Unbidden, his eyes stray to her semi-erect nipples. _Focus here Jake. Not too fast remember? _Very gently he rolls her onto her back and removes her injured hand from underneath her pillow. Olivia opens her eyes and smiles when she sees him.

She takes in Jake's soft smile and his tuxedo and mentally swoons. He looks incredibly sexy in his tux; all hazel eyes, tousled hair and easy elegance. He unbuttons the collar of his shirt and Olivia thinks it's impossible for one man to exude such effortless appeal. Without meaning to, she envisions Fitz the night of his inauguration, wearing a tux and smiling at her. She recalls the swagger he displayed in taking off his jacket, prowling towards her as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Where the hell is that coming from? She's appalled that she would compare them. Especially when one is sitting here taking care of her while the other showed blatant disregard for her well-being. _Pretty low Olivia._

"Sorry Liv, I didn't mean to wake you. Are you ok?", he asks quietly. He noted the flitting shadow that crossed her face and wondered what made her look so guilty. She nods and tugs lightly on the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. "How are you? Attended a wedding I didn't know about?", she says as she shoves the mental picture of Fitz out of her mind.

Jake laughs and shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. I had an unexpected event to attend. I might be a little overdressed for unpacking though." Olivia glances at the clock and notes its well after midnight. "I don't think we'll get much unpacking done tonight. Why don't we just have a nightcap and then you can go home and get some rest." Olivia sits up and Jake puts a hand between her breasts, halting her movement. "You stay here, I'll get the wine." He leaves the bedroom and her chest burns from his touch.

Jake returns with two wine glasses and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. He looks like something out of those old movies where the lead male is a suave and sophisticated seducer. She giggles at the idea of Jake spouting canned movie lines.

"What's so funny? Do I look like a monkey in this get up?", he says as he pours and hands her a glass of wine. "No, no. You look, uh, you look swell," she says hiding her face behind the wine glass. "Swell? Swell? Are you from the 1950s?", he laughs as he sits down on the other side the bed, sipping from his glass of wine. He props up some pillows and settles back with long sigh. "Tough event?", she asks turning on her side to face him. "Kind of. I'm still not sure how I got roped into it, but I'm glad it's over."

She notes Jake seems especially tired; his eyes are at half mast. She takes his wine glass and kneels up next to him. "Jake. Jake sit up. We need to get this jacket off." Jake allows her to pull him up and forward. She takes off his jacket and lays him back against the pillows. He watches her quietly and doesn't stop her when she removes his cuff links and unbuttons two more buttons on his shirt. He holds his breath when she removes his belt and tosses it on her bedside table. _Oh Christ, she has no idea how hard it is to sit here and not touch her. She's killing me._ Crawling across him, she turns off the lamp and he squeezes his eyes shut when her body brushes against him.

She notes that he's closed his eyes. "Jake? Are you asleep?" When he doesn't respond, she pulls the covers up over him and settles down next to him. Jake resolves to pretend to be asleep until she falls asleep herself. He can't risk any more contact with her right now. He's not sure he won't push her too fast even if it's just a kiss. He wants her badly, but can't be certain of his control. He drifts off as he realizes that she didn't try to shoo him out the door.

Olivia watches Jake's breathing deepen and notes that his curly hair is slightly lighter in color than she thought. She takes in the stubble covering his cheeks and notices the small jut of his chin. Her eyes trace the strong cut of his jaw and those full soft lips. She shakes herself and halts her face worship while she can. She was half hoping that he'd want to hold her. The day had been a long one. She'd spent much of it trying not to think about Fitz. Every time her thoughts strayed into that dark territory, she began to breathe hard and found herself dizzy with hurt. So when Jake called earlier, she had been almost grateful when he took her in hand a little. She didn't want to admit that she enjoyed being bossed that way, but it was a relief to not be responsible for her actions for a little while.

The bed shifts as Jake slides deeper under the covers and turns to face her sound asleep. She smiles softly and rearranges a stray lock of hair on his head. She shouldn't have let him stay, but he was a little drunk, a lot tired and looked like he didn't want to be alone. If her honest meter was being read, she didn't want to be alone either. Her last thought before falling asleep was that she should wake him and tell him he has to leave at first light.

_One wrist was held above her head with warm fingered restraint. Her other hand was free and buried between her legs, stroking her wetness. She slides the tips of her fingers down her slit and her back arches as a deep current of pleasure rips through her. She rubs her clit in tight fast circles, spreading her wetness so she's good and slick. A deep voice husks out, "Faster Liv, make yourself come for me. Faster."_

Olivia's eyes snap open and her hand slows its frantic rubbing. "I said faster Liv. Do it," Jake husks in her ear as he tightens his grip on her wrist. He has her injured hand by the wrist above her head. Her other hand is inside her panties coated with her juices. Jake is breathing heavily in her ear and demands again, "Do it now Liv." She can hear the desire in his voice as he roughly commands her to keep going. Nearly vibrating with his warm breath in her ear, she strokes herself slowly, building the tension.

"Good girl Liv, good girl. Now put a finger inside. Just one," he whispers. With a slow moan, she slides a finger inside her cunt. Jakes whispers, "Does that feel good Liv? Did it slide right through those juices?" She nods and gasps at his next order, rasped directly in her ear, "Now I want you to fuck yourself."

Moaning, she rolls her legs open and thrusts her finger inside, fucking herself slowly. Jakes groans in her ear, "Oh yes I can hear how wet you are. Keep fucking yourself Liv." Jake strokes his himself from the base of his cock to the swollen tip. He times his strokes to the pumping motion of her fingers and huffs out a strangled groan when she whimpers softly. "Such a good girl, fuck that pussy just a little faster for me," he seductively rumbles against her neck.

She grinds her finger inside her cunt and pants hard as the orgasm builds swiftly. "Now add a finger inside you. Good girl, that's better. Spread that pussy," Jake whispers roughly against her cheek. His grip tightens on her wrist and the slight pain pushes her closer to coming. Her pumping fingers are soaked with the juices flowing from her cunt. Gasping, she nears her peak. Jake yanks her arm all the way up, bites her earlobe and growls, "I want you to come. Right now Liv. Come for me."

The orgasm slams through her making her shoulders jerk violently on the bed. Her hand twists uselessly in his grip and her distress vaults his desire even higher. He strokes himself faster and kisses her just as she cries out from the waves of heat rolling through her body. He devours her moans and sucks her tongue as she comes. As the intensity of her orgasm fades, she's aware of Jake groaning loudly in her mouth and then he tenses and shudders hard at her side, softly grunting, "Good girl, uh yes, you came when I told you to, so good." She takes his groans and his tongue inside her, turned on by the fact that she pleased him.

Olivia floats back to herself and notes that Jake hasn't let go of her wrist. She opens her eyes and finds his face inches from hers. They're both panting, drinking each other in as they calm. He lets her wrist go and kisses her gently. "Did I hurt you Liv?", he asks his face a tense mask of worry. "I don't think so. But, I could've been hit with a sledge hammer just now and I wouldn't have felt it." They both laugh softly and then laugh again as the nervousness they feel fades away. Jake gives her a soft lingering kiss then gets up. "I'll be right back. I think we both need some water." He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Olivia sits up smiling in the dark. She covers her face with her hands and whispers "oh my god" several times while shaking her head. She's in shock and delighted at the same time. She thought she'd lost the ability to feel intimacy with anyone. She feels alive and sexy.

Jake returns with two glasses of water and hands her one. She takes a sip as Jake removes his dress shirt and pants. He lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms. He takes her wrist and rubs it gently. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?", he says as he kisses her wrist. "I'm sure Jake. I'm not hurting. Are you ok? You seem a little shaken." Jake strokes her face, not sure how to put his fears into words. "I'm fine Liv, just embarrassed. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you while you were having that dream, but you sounded so sexy and it turned me on when I realized what you were doing right next to me. I couldn't help it." _Right, you couldn't help it. You watched her masturbate for five minutes before grabbing her hurt hand and trapping it above her head. Then when you couldn't let go, you stroked off while dominating her. Yeah, all of that was involuntary. What is wrong with you?_

Olivia buries her head in his chest and groans. "I don't know what's wrong with me. That's the second time in 2 days you've caught me doing something like that. You must think I'm in heat." Jake laughs hard and pulls her closer, kissing her forehead. "You're embarrassed? I Monica Lewinsky'd the hell out of that borrowed tux. I'll have to clean it twice." They both burst out laughing, giggling and holding each other in the dark. Jake turns Olivia in his arms and spoons against her chuckling softly. "Well, I'm glad I didn't hurt you or scare you off. I didn't scare you off did I?", he asks kissing the back of her neck. He sounds so worried that Olivia doesn't know how to answer the question. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, I only intended to keep you from hurting your hand again. How would we have explained the new injury to the doc?", he laughs as he rubs her stomach. She chuckles and turns her face to kiss his arm. "I guess I'm not ready to talk about all of this yet. Is it ok if we just go to sleep?"

Jake is relieved that she doesn't want to give voice to what he just made her do. "Of course Liv. We don't have to talk about anything right now. Sleep, you still need your rest." He pulls her close and buries his nose in her hair.

"'Night Liv."

"'Night Jake."

The following morning Olivia is up first. She looks down at Jake who has his arm wrapped around her waist, fingers curled possessively over her hip. She takes a few moments to go over last night in her mind. In the light of day, what happened seems to have a darker undertone. She enjoyed it. She can't deny it. But, she's uneasy with how quickly she responded to him and how much he seemed to need her ... her complete acquiescence. They don't seem to be following a standard path of getting to know one another. They're not dating. That was ludicrous to consider given all that's happened. Dating? No, she isn't dating Jake. She isn't ready for anything like that and maybe not for a long time.

She sighs quietly and considers what this could possibly be. Sexual? She doesn't think she wants a sexual relationship. At least not yet. She's too much of a mess now and the last sexual relationship she had pretty much destroyed her. Besides, she has to break this cycle of choosing the wrong men. She knows that her choice of sexual partners has been pretty much the same person. Dominant, driven, strong; decidedly singleminded when it came to her. What she doesn't understand is how these men keep finding her. How do they know she needed this type of interaction? How did Jake know he could make her do those things? How did Fitz know he could completely control her life for those many years?

She recalls a conversation she had with Abby after they managed to get her away from her husband.

"No, no Abby that's not it."

"Of course it is Liv. I had to be defective to not see it. He spent the better part of 8 years slowly taking my control away from me. I knew it was happening and I allowed it."

"Abby, if you put a handful of sand down everyday, it would take years before you had a beach. His control was gradual and you know it."

"Ok, let's say that's true. But, when I realized it was happening, I stayed. I stayed long enough for the first slap. Then the first punch. Then the first hospital visit. Where in all of that sand did I not see the beach?"

"You loved him. Or thought you loved him. He also used intimidation, fear and threats to keep you there. He used your shame keep your silence. You were aware, but you were muzzled on several levels Abby."

"Maybe, but Liv, our pickers are broken. Your Dad used to say that we needed to get our pickers tuned because we seemed to fall for the same kind of guy. Bossy, overbearing men who swore they knew what was better for us than anyone else. We're still using the same broken pickers when we choose our men."

"Abby, my picker isn't broken. It's cracked, but not broken."

"Then why are you pining after a married man who's about to be the leader of the free world Liv?"

Olivia shakes off the memory and sighs again. She turns her head to look at Jake and is startled to see him watching her.

"If I'm the cause of all those sighs, I think I'm gonna cry," he says with a sleepy smile.

"What are you doing up? It's only 5:30 a.m."

"Is that your way of saying I can sleep in?"

"It's my way of saying that I'm surprised to see you awake. Why don't you go back to sleep and let me go about my usual morning routine."

"You mean the routine you had in D.C.?"

Liv blanches and looks at the ceiling. "I can't help having certain habits Jake. Yes, some of those habits were part of my life in D.C."

Jake strokes his hand over her lower belly and says softly, "Don't you think it's time for you to create a new routine? Those habits are from a life you don't have to live anymore. So why tether yourself to routines that don't make sense in this life?"

Olivia considers what he's said. As much as she wants to leave her life in D.C. behind, she's still finding ways to keep herself connected to what once was. Jake runs his hand down her hip and pulls her on her side to face him.

"How about we take an early morning run and then come back here for pancakes? I might not have told you before, but I have a gift for making pancakes," he says, grinning at her. Olivia laughs and allows him to pull her from the bed. _Maybe he's right. I need to start living this life and let the one I had in D.C. go. New armor, new existence._

Jake watches Olivia run in front of him, content with the view from his position behind her.

"Are you going to catch up or what?", she calls over her shoulder.

Fitz picks up the pace and outdistances her.

"What was that?", he calls back as he jogs up her driveway. He stops and allows her to catch up. She jogs to his side and leans over trying to catch her breath.

"You know, being 6'3" gives one an advantage", she huffs out.

"Let me guess, long muscular legs of thunder?", he says as he gives her some water.

Olivia laughs and sips from the water bottle. "Yeah that might have something to do with it. I should also remind you that I'm coming back from a health crisis and am in no shape to play 'race the thunder thighs' just yet."

Jake laughs and pulls her into the house. "All the more reason to get you stretched out before your shower." Jake guides Olivia to the kitchen island and taps the counter. "Ok young lady. Put that left gam right here."

Olivia gives him a dubious look and complies slowly. She winces as the slight stretch pulls at the muscles of her hamstrings. "See? You need to do this or tomorrow you won't be able to walk at all," he says with a laugh.

Jake moves behind her and runs his hand down the inside of her thigh. Olivia shivers and Jake stops. "Are you cold?", he asks. There is a teasing edge to his tone and Olivia doesn't bite. "I'm fine. You can stop flattering yourself."

Jake laughs and pushes her forward so her upper body angles down, pulling the muscle in her thigh. She groans involuntary and Jake huskily says, "You keep doing that Liv and I might forget this is about getting you limber."

He runs his hand up to the juncture of her thighs and stops short of her opening, massaging her inner thigh while holding her steady around the waist. He pulls her hips back against him and his jogging shorts do nothing to disguise his erection. Olivia jerks upright and pulls her leg off the counter. "Jake ..," she chastises as she removes his arm from around her waist. "Sorry, sorry. This isn't my fault," he says as he puts his hands on her hips. "Bend forward and touch your toes please," he instructs as he faces her forward. Olivia doesn't comply at first. "Liv ...," he warns softly. She rolls her eyes and bends forward, touching her fingertips to her toes.

"Exactly how is it not your fault?," she says, her voice muffled.

Bet she doesn't know how much she sounds like her father. The more time I spend with them, the more I can see bits of him in her personality. Her strength definitely came from that particular well.

"Well, I spent about 20 minutes jogging behind you this morning and I don't know what you think I'm made of, but I am not entering the priesthood any time soon. So in truth, my current state is your fault." He steps closer to realign her hips and his erection brushes against her upturned bottom. He groans and steps back with his hands up. "That's it. I give, I give. No way in hell I can finish stretching you out," he says laughing weakly.

Olivia uprights herself and looks at him mischievously. "I should make you finish the stretching to teach you a lesson Ballard. You started this Mr. Thunder Thighs," she says as she laughs.

Jake smirks and walks over to her, pushing her backward until she is trapped against the refrigerator with his body. Suddenly the air around them is filled with an intensity that is vibrant with sexual tension.

"You should make me finish huh?", he says softly, his voice dangerously low. He runs his hands up her sides and forces her arms up and over her head. "How would you do that Liv?", he murmurs as he holds her hands up, trapped in one his hands. Olivia is dumbstruck by the heat flooding her core.

"Answer me Liv. How would you make me finish?" Jake tilts her chin up and leans down to lick her lower lip. "Would you demand that I do as you asked?" Jake pulls her lower lip into his mouth and sucks it gently. "Is that what you'd do?", he asks releasing her lip after nipping it gently.

Olivia is transfixed by his voice, the vibration of his body pressed against hers, his intangible strength. He kisses her slowly, inching her lips apart with the soft insertion of his tongue. He deepens the kiss, holding her by the neck. Tilting his head to the side, he breaks the kiss and rumbles, "What if I demanded that you do as I asked? Would you do it?" He slips his tongue into her mouth for a heated kiss, his breath ratcheting up a notch. She allows him to kick her legs apart and gasps into his mouth when he presses his cock against her mound. He's harder than she thought possible. Jake pulls her closer and leans his head back to look at her. "Would you? Do as I ask?", he questions softly.

Suddenly confused and unsure, she catches the serious undertone in his voice and looks at him without answering. Jake runs his hand over her breast, cupping it before rolling her nipple between his fingers. Her eyes close when the shock of his hard pinch shoots directly to her sex. Jake slides his hand down her body and between her legs, pressing his fingers against her damp heat. Her gasp is loud in the tight space and Jake devours her mouth again, kissing her deeply, stealing her breath and all coherent thought. His insistent fingers go right to her clit, finding the small flesh and pinching it softly between his thumb and forefinger. Olivia's whimper causes Jake to flip her around so her back is to his chest. He pulls her hands down and holds them in place between her breasts. With his other hand, he snakes his fingers between her legs and continues stroking her there slowly.

Olivia moans and her head falls back onto his shoulder as he begins to rub her clit in slow circles. His breath hot against her neck, he licks and nibbles at her skin, whispering a mesmerizing litany of questions.

"Would you come for me when I asked?"

"Would you take me inside you when and how I say?"

"Would you let me make lick you for as long as I want?

Olivia's legs start to shake as her orgasm approaches. Jake's fingers rub her clit harder and her whistling breath becomes soft cries. Harshly breathing in her ear, Jake demands a response.

"Answer me."

Olivia nods her head frantically and lifts on her toes as the orgasm starts to get away from her.

"I want to hear it Liv. Say yes or I'll stop."

Olivia is nearly screaming with the need to come, but she can't bring herself to speak. She nods over and over, hoping her non-verbal assent will release her.

Suddenly, the hand between her legs stills. Her pulse beats against his hand as he softly grips her entire cunt in his palm.

The quiet kitchen resounds with their sonorous breathing, staggered and shaky with each inhalation. Jake whispers in her ear as he rhythmically squeezes her cunt. "Liv? I need to hear it. If you say yes, I'll let you come." Olivia's shaking intensifies with each squeeze of his hand. She turns her head to kiss him and he rewards her by slipping his tongue into her mouth. He pulls back to look at her, eyes hooded with desire.

"That's not a yes Liv. Tell me."

Olivia's eyes close as he squeezes her cunt again.

"Say yes for me. You want to. I can feel how much you want to say yes," he husks in her ear.

Vibrating under his hands, she struggles with her needs and what he wants.

The ringing phone jolts them both out of the small cocoon they'd built around themselves. Jake mutters "Shit," and releases her. He leans against the refrigerator haggardly breathing and trying not to moan at the ache in his cock. Grateful for the interruption, Olivia staggers to the phone, breathing hard.

"What?"

Jake follows her and slips his hands around her breasts from behind, squeezing them roughly as he presses his cock against her, pushing her into the counter. He's nearly mindless with the need to fuck her. I don't give a shit who's on the phone. They're about to hear more than they bargained for.

Olivia stifles a moan and nearly drops the phone when Jake rolls both her nipples in his fingers. He's licking the space between her neck and shoulder when a male voice responds on the phone.

"Is everything alright? You sound out of breath," her father asks.

Olivia freezes instantly. "Hello Rowan."

Jake also stills and shakes his head. He backs away from Olivia, wary of the exchange that's about to happen.

"That's Dad to you Olivia. How have you settled in? Are you all unpacked?"

"I don't think you need to worry about the state of my house Rowan. The extent of your help was relocation. I don't need you to play decorator or Dad at this point."

"If you keep talking to me like that, you're asking for a lot trouble in your immediate future young lady."

"What do you want Row-"

"Refer to me by my first name again and you'll be relocated without the freedom you have now. I told you once, you don't want to know me that way."

Olivia's shoulders sag under the weight of her father's threat. She can't fight any more. _It's too much. I can't win_.

Her voice softened and subjugated, she answers robotically. "I'll have it all unpacked today Dad."

"That's better. Once that's done let's set a time to talk about the final closing of your offices. Have you put that in motion?"

Olivia obediently answers, "Yes Dad. They're farming clients out now and we should be shuttered by the end of the month."

Jake stands behind Olivia with a look of horrified sadness on his face. Olivia's entire demeanor screams defeat as she speaks to her father. He's appalled by how lackluster and robotic she is. This isn't the woman he knows. This woman, this terrible thin facsimile of Olivia was everything he knew she wasn't. An automaton that was a wooden wind up toy; dull and distant. He wants to yank the phone out of her hand, but is too stunned to move. He's looking at the woman from the plane. Beaten down and chastised. A shadow of herself.

She speaks woodenly into the phone. "Call me next week and I'll let you know what day works best for lunch."

"Dinner Olivia. I want you to start showing me some of the better wine lists in town."

"Ok. Call me about dinner."

"Call me about dinner what?"

Stinging tears form in her eyes and she whispers tremulously, "Call me about dinner ... Dad."

"Well done. Expect my phone call soon."

Rowan hangs up without another word and Olivia clicks the off button with trembling fingers. Without turning around, she quietly says, "Jake I'm pretty tired and I don't think breakfast is such a good idea right now. I have some work to do anyway."

"Liv, ..."

"Not now Jake. Please."

Jake walks over to her and kisses her softly on the top of her head. "Liv, I'm here. I'll check on you later."

"I'd rather you didn't Jake. I know how to get in contact with you."

Feeling powerless, Jake leaves out the backdoor and and slips a metal rod into the lock. He has a feeling she will try to keep him out and he needs to be sure that she's ok. After that exchange, she's going to revert to bad habits he's sure.

Olivia takes a shower and cries on the floor of the bathroom until her nose is completely stuffed and her head aches. She silently wanders downstairs and begins unpacking a box which holds knick knacks. Ever present, a glass of Malbec accompanies her around the house. Each item she unearths has some memory of her life before "the end." She's demarcated her life into specific sections. Her life before Fitz was "the beginning." She was still in school, had a varied dating life and enjoyed her freedom. She could admit now that a certain type of man held her attraction. Older, experienced, powerful. _Possessive_. At the time, she enjoyed it. The men were attentive, worldly and they knew how to make her soar sexually. She liked the intensity. Over 40, sophisticated and intelligent, the men she chose were usually in politics and they all taught her a great deal about the game of Washington.

In college, men her own age were intimidated by her. Afraid of her drive, they used excuses to remove themselves from her life.

"We're on different paths."

"I'm looking for a partner in life, not a competitor."

"I don't make you come unless I'm holding you down."

So she stayed with her preference. Men of experience. They understood her. They cherished her in a way that she had never experienced.

That was "the beginning."

The period she labeled "the best" was her introduction to Fitz, the beginning of their affair and the growth of their love. She had been at her happiest then. She'd also been at her most anguished. The confusion was thick and blinding; heady and exhilarating. She'd never felt more unsure of herself at that time. She had also never felt more passion and joy than when she and Fitz were together. He tried to build a life with her and needed her in a way that was intoxicating. She would have done anything for him.

The change in her life that signaled "the end" was Fitz choosing to sacrifice her publicly. Full stop. She resided in that world now, no longer shocked and disbelieving. She was at acceptance. Resigned to the shadowy existence where she mattered to less than one person. The end. The positioning of vases or books or ottomans didn't change the truth. She was alone. Without him. Pretty fucked up, but nonetheless "the end."

Olivia unpacked the last box and retreated to the window seat with a blanket and a glass of wine. Dreaded task complete, she picked up the phone to check in with Huck.

His cell phone began ringing just as he let himself into his apartment. He picks it up when he realizes its Olivia. "What's wrong Liv?" he asks as he skirts the boxes in his living room.

"Nothing Huck. I'm just checking on the status of our shut down. How's it going?"

"All the letters have gone out and the last active client was accepted by Heller Orin yesterday. We're just cutting off all non-essential services and will likely have an auction for the equipment. I need to send you an office inventory so you can let us know what you want to keep."

"I don't want anything. Sell it all. How are you? Have you found a new job?

"I'm working on it. I need to adjust to this new existence and then maybe I can start looking around."

"Listen Huck. I'll say this quickly because you'll probably cut me off before I finish. I absolutely forbid you to leave normal society and end up living like you did before. Understood?"

"Liv, I'm handling this change with reactions that anyone else would have. I'm nervous, unsure and a little sad. That doesn't scream homeless and living in the metro station."

Olivia smiles and wishes Huck were here so she could take care of him until he was on his feet.

"Alright, that's all I'll say about it. Just remember, I forbid it," she says fondly.

''Got it Liv."

"Ok, goodbye Huck."

"Bye Liv."

He hangs up the phone and sits down at his computer bank. The call was traced to a small suburban neighborhood in Manassas. His apartment isn't far from that town and he's glad that he chose Vulcan Lake area.

He decides to scale back locating her for the next few weeks while the office shuts down. Abby was handling much of it now that he was gone, but is still demanding that he tell her where Olivia is. He was wearing her down with his silence, but she wasn't going to give up. Her friend was in trouble and she needed to help her. He understood that. He also understood that Command would eliminate anyone that tried to find Olivia and he couldn't let more blood be spilled because of him. He was done with that life. All he wants now is to make sure Olivia survives the assimilation process. Once that's done, he can go.

Olivia turns out the lights in the living room, dining room and the kitchen. She stumbles to the couch and lets the warmth of the fire waft over her. She's on her fourth glass of wine and doesn't remember if she's eaten. She's curled up on the couch under a throw. For the rest of the afternoon and evening, she'd arranged the first floor to look exactly like her apartment in D.C. There were potent pieces from her apartment that now held prominent positions in her new home. The white wing statue now resided on her mantle. The wingback chairs were set in front of the fireplace. She was sitting under the cashmere throw that often lay on the back of her couch.

Despite recreating her D.C. apartment, she finds it cold comfort. She takes another sip of wine and settles into the cushions. The fogginess of her thoughts are a welcome respite. She isn't interested in coherent thought. They only hurt and make her scratch at the same sore spot in her mind over and over. _Fuck thinking. It's overrated._

The heat from the fire is lulling her to sleep and she doesn't fight it. She's not just tired. She's hulled out. There isn't much she wants at this moment except oblivion. She falls asleep surrounded by dead memories from a life that no longer exists.

Jake slips quietly through the back door and walks into the past. He's stunned by the decor. It's her place in D.C. in nearly exact detail. He's taken aback that she would bring that life here.

He finds her in the living room, looking small and fragile on the couch. He notes the empty bottle of wine and sighs. He sits on the couch and gently shakes her by the shoulder.

"Liv. Liv wake up."

She groggily opens her eyes and sighs. "Why are you here? I told you I'd call you if I needed something. I don't need anything Jake. Please go home."

"Liv, let me at least get you upstairs." He drags the blanket off her and pulls her upright. Olivia slaps at his hands and wobbles to a sitting position.

"Christ you're like a dog with a bone. Don't you have to trot back to my father and report the fact that I'm unpacked?"

The cutting remark stings. She's drunk and got the dressing down of a lifetime this morning. She's lashing out.

"I'll let that slide Liv. Come on, time for bed. Up you go."

Olivia pushes his hands away and sways forward with the momentum. Jake catches her and she drunkenly tries to kiss him. He sets her back and firmly says, "No Liv."

"Why not? You wanted to this morning."

She crawls over him, pushing him back against the cushions and settles her legs on either side of him. He doesn't stop her when she runs her hands up his chest.

"This morning was different and you know it Liv. Cut it out."

"What was so different? Oh I think I know. You were the aggressor. Is that it?" She unbuttons the top button of his shirt.

"That's not the only reason this isn't happening right now. You're drunk."

"So what? I'm less conflicted now, more open," she says as she opens another button.

"You're not thinking and your judgement is clouded. I don't have to run down the reasons why not."

Olivia leans in and kisses him softly. "What if I don't want to think?" She kisses her way down his chin and licks a soft path to his neck.

Jake's eyes roll shut from the heat of her tongue. He grabs her hips to push her off and instead, pulls her down so that her knees were spread wide. The move forces her sex down onto his groin.

"You don't want to think about this? You want to dive in headfirst without any forethought? Doesn't sound like you at all," he says weakly as she sucks his earlobe.

Olivia dips her tongue in his ear and whispers, "Maybe I don't want to be me."

Jake exhales sharply as she runs her hands over his stomach and down his hips, pulling him against her.

"Liv, listen to me. In the morning, you'll be second guessing this. I don't want that."

Olivia grinds her hips down against him and smiles when his body jerks involuntarily.

"Second guess what? Fucking you?", she bites his neck and pulls his face to hers, kissing him hard and deep.

Jake makes a helpless noise in the back of his throat and allows her to slip her tongue deep into his mouth. His hands are shaking with the effort to keep his control. He wrenches his head to the side and grabs her hands, pushing her back. I can't do this._ I can't. If I fuck her now, she'll wake up in the morning and label it another mistake in a long line of mistakes. The hell with that._

"I said enough Liv."

"What's this? Jacob Ballard not equal to the task?", she taunts.

"Don't push me Liv. Now lets go. To bed with you."

"Not much to push apparently. You've stripped me naked, slept in my bed and had your hands all over me this morning. Yet now, when I give you an opportunity to close the deal, you balk."

Jake feels a heated flush creep up his neck and fights with his deeper self for exactly 10 seconds. Then he snaps.

He grabs Olivia by the back of the neck and wraps an arm around her waist. He lifts her swiftly and deposits her on her back on the couch. Grabbing her by the wrists, he holds her hands straight up and pushes her knees apart settling between them. He leans down so his face is inches from hers. "There's an expression for what you've just done. It's the process of antagonizing someone into action to get the result you want. Congratulations, you got what you wanted."

Jake slips his hand up the chemise she's wearing and pulls her panties to the side. His breathing quickens when he comes in contact with the heat of her. Adjusting his grip on her wrists, he speaks softly, "When I speak, I want you to acknowledge every word I've said. If I have to repeat myself, you'll pay for it."

Jake slides two fingers inside her with a low hiss. _Fuck, she's soaking._ The knowledge that she's turned on makes him shake minutely. Olivia arches her back and her hands clutch spastically in his grip. When his fingers are inside her to the second knuckle, he stops and strokes in and out of her cunt, marveling at how wet she is. Olivia groans with each stroke, breathing hard and fast.

"Liv, I have instructions for you. Listen carefully alright?"

Olivia's head is thrown back and she's obviously beyond hearing him. Jake stills his stroking fingers and leans down. "Liv?", he says quietly. She opens her eyes and looks at him, frustrated and excited. Breathing hard, she pants, "What?"

Jake pushes his fingers in her cunt to the hilt and she moans loudly.

"Liv. I need you to listen. Otherwise, I'll stop and wait until I have your attention."

Olivia blinks her eyes and struggles to think while he circles his fingers inside her. She nods slowly.

"Good girl. My instructions are simple. You don't get to come unless I say so. Understood?" He pumps his fingers for emphasis. Olivia nods frantically and moans as her body responds to the short strokes.

"Out loud Liv. Say it out loud," Jake says gruffly struggling with his control.

"Yes", she chokes out before moaning deep and low.

"Very good girl. Here's a treat for being such a good girl."

Jake lays down alongside her and hooks her legs open with one of his. He pulls her arms up and over her head to hang over the armrest. Leaning in, he kisses her deeply, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He quickens the pace of his stroking fingers and alters the depth. Each stroke thrusts his fingers deep inside her and she whimpers into his mouth with each pump.

Olivia nears her orgasm and begins to gasp loudly. Jake slows his stroking and breaks their kiss. "What did I tell you Liv? You can't come unless I say so." He licks at her tongue and pumps his fingers quickly.

Olivia squeals and throws her head back. Jake stops again and waits until she calms. His breath shudders in and out as the sensation of euphoria cascades over him. Her very pleasure hangs on his whim. He's rock hard and involuntarily rubs his cock against her hip, turned on to the extreme. He fucks his fingers inside her then stops when she crests. He does this a few more times and loves the effect it's having on her. She's wanton in a way that's beautiful. Because of him, she's mewling, gasping and turned inside out. Her dripping cunt eases his thrusting fingers in so they push deeper into her sucking softness. Her legs tremble uncontrollably and she pulls at her restrained hands every time he curls his fingers inside her.

He's close to losing her to an uncontrolled orgasm and wants it to come at his direction. He's soaring from the authority she allows him to have and wants that orgasm to belong to him. It does belong to him. She's nearly shrieking and has started to hump his fingers mindlessly.

"Liv? Liv I want something from you," he whispers seductively, licking her earlobe. She desperately tries to climb up from her haze of arousal. Her cunt is convulsively squeezing around his fingers and his constant stroking is making clear thought impossible. She has to listen or he'll stop. She's frenzied with the need to come.

Whimpering softly, she answers with a breathless, "Yes, yes, anything. Please." She shudders hard as a particularly deep current of pleasure washes away any caution lurking in the back of her mind.

Jake grips her wrists tighter and grinds himself against her hip as the sound of her begging snakes arousal straight to his cock. He strokes his thumb across her clit and she peals a long shriek into his mouth. Jake stills immediately, nearly coming from her frantic gyrations.

"Easy baby. Easy. Not just yet. You're doing so well. Such a good girl. Give me your tongue. Come on give it to me."

Olivia opens her mouth and Jake invades it, softly sucking her tongue and swirling it around his own. He pulls back and gently circles her clit with his thumb again.

Frantic, Olivia begins to beg. "Please Jake, please. Let me come. I can't take it. Please," whispers against his lips.

"You will baby, oh honey you will. I just need one question answered. You remember don't you?" he murmurs against her mouth. "Will you do as I ask? Huh baby? Say yes and I'll let that little pussy come all over my hand."

Olivia immediately gasps, "Yes. Yes Jake I will." Jake smiles against her mouth and rumbles, "Good girl Liv. But before I let you come ...", he stops talking to resume pumping his fingers inside her. His thumb circles her clit with increased pressure. His control is slipping and his grinding cock is nearly ready to explode. His voice shakes as he resumes talking, "I need you to repeat it Liv. I want you say it. Say 'Yes, as you ask Jake'." He increases the speed of his stroking fingers and circles her clit hard with his thumb. "Say it Liv. Now. I'll let you come if you do."

Olivia frantically repeats the words, gasping them out as her control slips, "Yes, as you ask Jake. Yes. Please, please!"

Jake increases the pace of his fingers and bears down on her clit. Olivia screams into his mouth as her orgasm slams through her. She struggles against his hold on her wrists and that sends Jake over the edge. He comes hard, fingers bottomed out in her cunt, tongue manically fighting with hers. His low-pitched, "Good girl Liv. So good" is lost inside her mouth as she rides the crest of her orgasm. When she comes back to herself, Jake is kissing her gently, breathing hard and murmuring "Good girl." She expands inside, content and warmed by the fact that she he was pleased with her. She's never been able to describe this feeling, but all she knows is that it centers her and makes her feel safe.

Jake pulls his fingers from inside her and brings his soaked fingers to his lips. He licks them slowly, keeping eye contact with her the entire time. He's about to say something and Olivia's eyes widen and she leans forward to slip his fingers into her mouth, stunning him to speechlessness. He pulls her mouth open with his fingers and slips his tongue inside. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back and smiles softly at her. "What didn't you want me to say?"

_I will never get tired of the way you taste._

She takes a deep breath and smiles. "Nothing. Nothing Jake." She kisses him and tugs gently at her wrists still trapped in his hand. "Am I going to get my hands back?", she teases.

Jake laughs and releases her hands. "Sorry about that. I think I spasmed so hard that my muscles just locked on me." He eases her arms down and gets up pulling her into a sitting position. Embarrassed, she pulls her chemise down over her hips and pushes her hair out of her face. She's still shaky and doesn't trust her legs yet.

"Liv, give me a second and I'll get us some water," Jake says as he walks away. Trembling, she grabs her blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. The buzz from the wine has worn off and she acutely aware of the fact that something has shifted profoundly between her and Jake. As she curls up on the couch, she settles gingerly, allowing for her swollen sex. The tightness between her shoulders is gone. Her spinning thoughts are settled and she's at ease in her own skin. As much as she'd like to deny it, her calm is tied directly to what just happened between her and Jake. She knows they're going to have to talk about it, but right now she wants to sit with the short-lived peace she has and enjoy it.


End file.
